Tainted Blood and Lyrium
by OracleofWar
Summary: An OC Warden has defeated the Blight and the Architect. Her heart lays in tatters and her seniors question her survival. Escaping to Kirkwall can she forge a future, maybe with a certain Tevinter elf? Or is she destined to live the few years she has left before the taint claims her, with only her anger and bitterness as companions. Will go post Act 3 of DA2.
1. Chapter One

This story has been in my head and in my documents for ages. I've already got several chapters written, its just the matter of posting them (I'm a mum of two young boys - time is something rare in my house!). I'm a massive fan of DA and Bioware, but always felt limited by the fact playing a human warrior meant playing a noble. This fic stars an OC - having gone through the Blight already, who was not of noble or happy beginnings. It starts in 9:33 and stars/references most DA:Origins DAII characters. I'm writing this not only to share a story, but to also improve my writing and developmental abilities.

I hope it is enjoyed. Helpful criticism is welcome. Swearing and sexual situations are found within. Bioware owns all.

Chapter 1

The sea was rough, the ship merely a piece of driftwood in the crashing waves that battered the vessel around. Eve Darrow sat in her cabin, a box of a room with a small hammock, a crate for a table and a small stool it's only furnishings. She had given up the battle to sleep as the ship, The Revenge it was called, rocked and swayed as if it were a toy in the Makers own hands, and now sat stiffly in the corner trying not to be thrown from one wall to the other, thankful the sparse furniture had been nailed to the floor.  
Eve was glad she had an empty stomach; it lurched as much as the ship and anything she would have eaten would have quickly reappeared. As it was, this storm had lasted since late afternoon and all crew had abandoned normal duties to try and keep the ship above the waves and in to better waters.

She could hear the captain, Jarod he said to call him, an Antivan man in his late forties with skin like leather, eyes as black as pitch, an oiled beard he often caressed like a lover, and more gold on his fingers than crew on his ship, shouting abuse at his hadn't a clue what he was yelling, starboard? Port side? Rigs? Ships were not Eve's specialty. Not even close. A Ferelden was she, proud of it too, let the Orlesian's call them Dog Lords as if their Mabaris were something they weren't proud of. Bet they couldn't stop a Blight in a year and slay an Archdemon with an army of elves, dwarves and mages. Eve's mouth turned down as her mind led her along dark twisted paths of memories she didn't want to think about, didn't want to remember. It was all too painful. Too much death, pain, loss. Yes, an Archdemon was slain, an Architect too in recent months. She had helped people, made a difference to lives, for the better in most cases, but none of it made up for the black, empty void inside. First the Grey Wardens at Ostagar, fools she always thought to blindly follow a pride seeking King so easily betrayed by a madman who called himself friend. There were the elves and the werewolves, misguided fool of a Keeper lost in his anger allowed to grow and fester after an un-naturally long life. That trek through the forests was followed by Redcliffe who suffered under a misguided mother and demon possessed son who she was forced to execute. That blood would never truly be cleansed from her soul. Then there was the Circle, mages slaughtered or turned to blood magic. Her father, her mad, terrible tyrant Templar of a father had ranted and raved to her as a child in his lyrium induced insanity about how they could never be trusted, that mages were all abominations waiting to happen. She had never believed him, but seeing that tower, mages and Templars alike pulled apart, possessed by demonic desires, she began to think maybe he hadn't been totally wrong. But she still wasn't monster enough to kill them along with Uldred, couldn't bring herself to listen to that voice that sounded so much like her father spitting venom at her like he did when was alive. Damn him, damn the circle, damn the mages and the Templars too. She gained Wynne as an ally that day, but when she broke down in camp that night silently and alone in her tent, repressed memories of a childhood fraught with pain crippling her, she had damn near lost her mind. Except Alistair had been there. Alistair with a lonely and pained childhood of his own, with his equally skewed view of family. He understood. Didn't judge her weak tears. He listened till her voice was rough with emotion and spoke softly with her, mirroring the same broken look in her eyes when they shared stories of their lives before the Grey. He gave her friendship that she never thought she needed or could ever be worthy of. They all did, Leliana, Zevran, Wynne, Oghren, even Sten, Shale and Morrigan in their own ways. But Alistair, his memory was still like an open seeping wound only two and a half years after, he hadn't just been a friend, but a beacon of light and hope for a future in a present that was so uncertain, and later, a lover. He was the calm after nightmares of horrors that made her mute, the warm touch of another, the embrace she craved, needed, adored. But no more. Alistair the friend and lover had been slain even before the Archdemon. He wasn't dead and Eve didn't know if that made it worse, as awful as it sounded in her head. He was, as far as she knew, well and fine. But she supposed the life of a beloved King always would be better for one's health than that of a mere Grey Warden.

She still wished she hadn't let him battle Loghain at the Landsmeet, lopping of his head before anyone could tell him to stop. Forcing her to call him King instead of Anora as Queen because that stupid cow had said she'd have him executed for her father's death as soon as she took the throne. It was obvious afterwards that Eamon, little gnat of a man, had been whispering in Alistair's ear and by the time he got round to speaking to her, to Eve, the one he loved and he once said would love forever, it was all 'Sorry we can't be together, there will be expectations, I shall need heirs, Grey Wardens are basically sterile, you aren't good enough to be my wife but maybe you could be my mistress?' He'd ended up with a black eye, a fat lip and she had split knuckles and a broken heart.

All her memories of him ached, where once she had treasured the memory of his tender touches, of his support, or his love as they trekked through the dark horrors of the deep roads looking for a paragon, creeping through the ruins of Andrastes resting place for a pinch of ashes amid the mad cult of her worshippers. Now those thoughts tightened her chest and twisted her stomach. But she wouldn't cry over it. The last tears came the night after the Landsmeet, her comrades and friends had comforted her as best they could when she wasn't telling them to leave her be as she drank herself in to oblivion on some shitty liquor behind the locked door of the room in the Arls estate, staring at the bed only that morning she and Alistair had shared. But by morning, nursing a hangover the likes she hadn't seen since she'd been a mercenary, which she refused to let Wynne heal her from, she dried her tears, straightened herself out, hefted her great sword on her back and got on with it.

She got on with it all, without shedding another tear over the next year and a half. Marching to Redcliffe, talking Alistair in to impregnating Morrigan, she had drunk a lot that night. Shitty liquor again, apparently Eamon had no taste when it came to alcohol or wives. Marching back again to Denerim. Slaying an Archdemon, recovering from said slaying - Morrigan might have said a Grey Warden needn't die to slay it, but it didn't mean she didn't come away with several broken ribs, a broken pelvis, and losing more blood than she should have survived from. Being named Hero of Ferelden, a Kings Coronation, becoming Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and Arlessa of Amaranthine. Fighting talking darkspawn, recruiting new wardens, sentencing others to death. The tainted potion had no logic with whom it chose. Making friends with a fade spirit, a runaway Mage, the son of the previous Arl-come-murderer and torturer, a dead dwarf and slaying The Architect and Mother. She lost Anders and Justice both not long after. She found Morrigan at one point but not her and Alistair's whelp. She spent months overseeing the rebuilding of Vigils Keep and the City of Amaranthine, clearing out pockets of darkspawn stragglers too stupid to go back in to the Deep Roads. She avoided and ignored Alistair's letters and later his royal orders to go back to Denerim to 'talk'. She wrote once saying The King had no jurisdiction over the Grey Wardens, that they were too busy to make social visits and that he should contact Weisshaupt instead. She didn't hear from him again. Unless Varel was hiding that correspondence - Maker bless that man. Occasionally she gave in to her base desires and fucked around. She wasn't a virgin before Alistair and she wasn't a bloody Chantry Sister either. She wasn't dead, not yet. Her heart was closed off, the men she took to her bed knew that, maybe even admired that about her, and though she might be scarred, she knew she was not an ugly woman. Not even in to her middle twenties, still young, she had plenty of admirers. If sometimes her heart wished her occasional lovers were taller or blonder, with eyes like honey and broader shoulders, she ignored it.

Oghren had once said, not long before she set out on this voyage, after she had forced him into making amends with Felsi and to be the father she knew he could be to their child, that he was concerned for her. She was always so angry and careless with her life, and she should 'sodding keep the berserker bollocks to those nughumping darkspawn!' She laughed at him, clapped him on the back and told him she was fine. She pretended she didn't see the lie reflected in his drink mottled face.

Then there was a letter from Weisshaupt. Why aren't you dead? What happened? Come immediately for questioning. Come  
Eve had paled at the words. Accusations. Interrogation. Alone in the Anderfels. That's what she saw in the formal overly polite words.  
Fuck that, she thought, and fuck this. She was only a Grey Warden because Duncan conscripted her from the depths of Fort Drakon after a mercenary job gone to shit. The wrong man dead. Her sword bloody. So yes, Duncan rescued her from their interrogation, torture, rape, the hangman a noose, that she was destined for. She was thankful, but she hadn't asked for this, none of it. If anything she had done more than was expected of her, more than what was considered duty. She wasn't stupid, she knew if she went to Weishauppt she wouldn't come back. They'd find out by whatever means they could why she was alive, a shame on the memory of the Grey Wardens dying to end the Blights before her. She often regretted her selfish desire to live, for making Alistair fuck a woman he detested - that was surely the final nail in the coffin of the relationship they once had. But it was done, she was alive, and Maker be damned, she wasn't going to make all the regrets and loss count for nothing.

She wrote back saying she would leave as soon as she was able. Nathanial was left in charge in her stead. He wasn't happy about it but, well, he wasn't often happy about much, except maybe the occasions they shared a bed. She didn't tell him about why she was going, or about Morrigan. Why involve someone else in her troubles. Varel booked passage on a ship to Antiva, after that her travel arrangements were her own. No one had any reason to suspect she was not following orders. She was not a commander that shared her duties with her subordinates, shared her worries, her stresses. Once maybe, a lifetime ago, not now. She socialised with them as much as she could stand as the cold, hard Commander, ate with them, trained them, and mentored them. But she showed them no weakness. Only a select few found themselves in her private quarters, a tumble in the sheets would sometimes follow, but then they would leave, they knew to leave. All very professional.

She left for Antiva. The journey uneventful, no storms, easy sailing. They knew who she was in her warden armour, heavy plate with the griffon emblazoned proudly on the front. She told them she was on her way to Weisshaupt. There was no reason not to believe her. She tracked down Zevran. He had his own problems, but he did not falter once when she asked him for help. He still had contacts and ways to make things happen and she had gold. A lot of gold.  
I need to die, she told him. He had laughed and recommended a poison and that they should share a night together before she took her life. She told him the body need not be hers, and agreed to the night together. Why not, there was no Alistair anymore, and Zevran had always been boastful of his prowess. He had often embellished some of his stories in camp, but apparently not that.

She didn't have enough time to feel guilty over the woman with the near enough shade of crimson coloured hair to match hers, with an only slightly more slender build, a severe lack of scars and calloused hands. Eve didn't ask where they found her, who she was, how she died. She suspected Zevran thought she would when he had told her a body was found and all she had said was 'good'. A slight frown of his brown eyes and downturn of his full lips that lasted only a moment was enough for Eve to realise that he too thought her changed. That the old Eve, the one that spared his life would have worried over a life taken in her name. But he said nothing. Zevran understood the walls people put up and why. Anyone else would have asked what had happened to her to make her so, hmmm, cold was the word a new recruit had once said thinking Eve out of earshot, but Zevran knew why, and knew not to say anything.  
They dressed the girl with Eve's armour. Not the sword, Eve wouldn't let that go, it meant too much, and it was believable enough that attackers would have taken the weapon anyway. They dumped her in an alley not far from the docks. They lit her alight. Watched her burn from the rooftops.

Eve had paid a ship to take her to Tallo in the Anderfels. A long journey, a lot of gold. They were a ship that often took provisions for the Wardens, they were going to be expecting her, they were staunch Grey Warden supporters, and they would worry if she didn't turn up. A letter had gone on to Weisshaupt to let them know of her travel arrangements. They would look for her and they would find her charred remains. The Crows would be blamed. Zevran had liked the idea that he would bring those that killed the Hero of Ferelden to justice when he eventually took them over.  
He helped Eve cut her long hair, sighing with every long lock that dropped to the floor. Zevran still said she looked beautiful. Eve couldn't help but stare at the scar on her face, a long line of bumpy tissue along her jawline from her left ear to the centre of her chin. Another reminder of her childhood, a memory of her crazed father trying to cut off her face because she looked too much like her mother and he thought she was a demon. Lyrium addled bastard.  
'Wont people recognise your scar, ma bella?' Zevran asked, tracing it softly.  
'No.' Eve shook her head, she either wore a helmet or had her hair styled so the scar was covered. Only a handful of people had seen it up close. People she would not see again or avoid. Soon she would be dead; a scar would be forgotten even if she was glimpsed.

Eve Darrow died 24th Cloudreach 9:33. Eve Thorne was born not much later. She didn't see the point in changing her first name. Apparently it was quite common now. A lot of post Blight daughters being named as such, some grown women even changing their name. Better to live on few lies and be accepted, than too many and be suspected.  
Zevran said he would keep her new life a secret, he didn't try to hide the sadness in his eyes when they said farewell to each other. Eve didn't pretend not to feel it herself. But she did not cry.

Eve Thorne bought passage on The Revenge, they were going to Kirkwall, it seemed as good a place as any, there were no warden outposts there for starters.  
She didn't have the protection of being a Grey Warden and Hero that she did on the Ship to Antiva. A few men tried their luck on that passage but were easily rebuffed. On Eve's second week on The Revenge rebuffing sex starved sailors was not easy. She'd given one a broken nose and another a broken hand. So she did what any survivalist would, she got close to the Captain. He wasn't that repulsive after all, he had good wine and decent stories. She didn't even have to sleep with him, and the crew soon got the message, and Eve secured safe passage for the remaining weeks on board.

A large wave hit the side of the ship breaking Eve from her reverie. Enough! She thought, enough wallowing. Eve Darrow is dead, her memories and her past are dead. Eve Thorne can be anything, she doesn't have to live in the shadow of regrets and death. She is free to come and go as she pleases. Her friends have all moved on with their lives, their mourning will be short, life will go on, the world will continue.

She smiled to herself, she told herself she was free, born again, alive. But deep down even she wasn't fool enough to believe it.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Eve didn't know what she expected when they docked in Kirkwall. The sneers directed at her, just another bloody Fereldan refugee they said, had certainly not been expected.  
Nor were the chains, the history as a stronghold of Tevinter and its partiality to slaves obvious at every turn.

She had her meagre possessions in a bag slung over her shoulder, her weapon in easy reach, she wanted people to see she wasn't to be fucked with, it was obvious by the hungry looks of dock workers and refugees waiting around to work or steal for money they might try it on lesser people. Once she might have been disgusted by it, shared some coin, told them they were better than beggars or thieves. But that was Eve Darrow. Eve Thorne lifted her head and made her way up from the docks, to Lowtown Captain Jarod had said, a better range of establishments than those found at the docks. She had given her thanks, he pressed a beard tickling kiss to her hand, suave in the way only Antivans could be, and bid him farewell.

Kirkwall didn't remind her of Denerim or Amaranthine. She'd briefly read in her study at Vigils Keep it was called the City of Chains, and Eve could certainly see why. The salty sea blew in from the south, but it did nothing for the scent of desperation that hung in the air as she made her through the docks and as she walked deeper in to the City she felt it more of a prison than anything else. Ferelden it was not, though the accents of many who milled around her were familiar enough. She pulled her hooded cloak firmly over her head despite the warmth of the day, paranoid she would be recognised.

She managed to make it the area called Lowtown, aptly described by the Captain for looking like 'a slum with sky'. Apparently if she found herself in a slum without sky she'd gone too far and was in Darktown and she'd be lucky if the carta got her before the refugees did.  
The sun was setting in a haze of orange and Eve knew she had better find somewhere for the night, aware that her wealth was quickly dissipating and her unease about Kirkwall growing, she wanted to save as much coin as she could and found an Inn that looked like it wouldn't cost her too much. So the Hanged Man it was for lack of any other choice.  
She pushed the doors open only to be assaulted by the smell of piss and vomit, bad enough to make Eve wish for the aroma of darkspawn blood. The place was heaving, even this early in to the evening, mostly groups of men who looked like they'd been drinking since sunrise.  
A few glances her way made Eve decide to remain under her hood, if only to send the message that she wanted to be left alone. She made her way to the bar, a tired fellow with a bad haircut and sweat stained shirt stood wiping dirty glasses with an equally dirty cloth.  
"You got a room?" She asked over the noise of a rather raucous table in the near corner where several patrons were animatedly waving their arms and downing their drinks.  
"Single occupancy?" He asked, barely raising his eyes from his menial labour.  
"Yeah. Not sure how long."  
"20 silver a night."  
Eve put two gold coins on the table in front of him, only then did he bother looking at her. "Five nights and I assume this'll cover a bottle of decent wine, a bowl of whatever you have in the pot and a heel of bread?"  
"Of course, Serah!" He smiled, Eve shook her head, the cost of manners was steep in the Free Marches. He grabbed a key from the back room. "Up the stairs, third door on the left. I'll get Norah to bring up to you and sort you out a bath if you like." He handed Eve the key, she tried not to look at his blackened fingers, the same that would be serving up her meal.  
"Thanks."  
"Names Corff, by the way Serah."  
"Thorne." She replied bruskly, the name still sounded so strange rolling off her tongue.  
"Very good, Serah Thorne. Enjoy your stay at The Hanged Man."  
She nodded her reply as she made her way to her room, looking forward to a bed, a bath and food that wasn't salted or pickled to death. She'd make the effort to get any news of her 'death' tomorrow, if any, maybe see if Corff had any knowledge of any mercenary groups she could work for. She'd stick to what she knew for now, make some coin, and then figure out where to go from there. No rush.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Eve had to just admit it to herself. She had to face facts, face the truth. She had gone soft. And all it had taken was nearly a year of large beds, soft clean sheets, airy spaces and decent food.  
Buggar the fact she had survived on her own from the age of 12, living on the streets, in abandoned houses, forgotten barns. Then later when she was a mercenary for The Crimson Oars she had a room in a boarding house not far from the Alienage, which was only big enough and she only had coin enough for a small pallet bed and a few measly books. Where left over coin went on weapons or armour instead of food.

Now sitting on the edge of a so called 'bed' that smelt like wet hay, in a windowless room where the walls were the same colour as horseshit and stunk almost as bad, she knew she'd gone bloody soft and she wasn't going to get any bloody sleep. Especially with the fucking racket from down the hall!  
Argh, she was pissed off already, and one bottle of vinegary wine was not near enough to get her drunk enough not to be pissed off and get her off to sleep. Maker damned Grey Warden taint. Speaking of which, she also felt off. The vibrating of her blood, the kind she and the other wardens felt around each other and darkspawn was playing up. It was like an annoying insect buzzing in her veins, on and off, like it didn't know what was going on, and it was irritating her further. She shook her arms out as if she could shake the feeling from her body. Maybe she was just exhausted, she had barely slept more than an hour at a time from Antiva, surrounded by men she didn't know, she couldn't let herself relax, and even before that, worry had plagued her mind since getting that summons from Weisshaupt. In fact she didn't think she'd slept well since becoming a Warden, nightmares as they were.

Eve decided she needed alcohol, lots more. Even if it was made from fermented potatoes like the stuff Oghren had made many months ago at the keep. That stuff could knock out a bronto. She needed something like that now, and quick, considering the sentimental feelings suddenly flooding her insides making her wince in pain. She would not cry. Never would she cry again.  
She pulled her cloak on, grabbed her coin purse, her sword, and made sure she had both boot daggers and the knife she wore on her forearm when not in armour, sheathed and made her way back down to the bar.

The place was a lot livelier now it was nearer the midnight hour than it had been. Voices, cursing, clinking mugs and the sound of over indulgence was nearly deafening. The room at the top of the stairs seemed well in the spirit of whatever jubilation was occurring, and as she stood outside about to descend the stairs, Eve felt the rising tide of wistful envy build up, that was until her tainted blood upped the persistent buzzing to a full on vibration. A vibration she knew all too fucking well.

Red descended. A berserker rage pulled over her like a veil. Her blood roared with anger, a burning flood that had her unsheathing the knife from her arm, kicking the door to the suite she had just been standing in front of, pinning a long lost friend to the wall, her mouth stretched in a terrifying snarl. Her grey eyes inches away from brown orbs that hesitantly flashed blue.  
"Anders you bastard. You're a fucking dead man." She seethed.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter 4

Her rages were a storm, powerful, complete, blind to everything not in her path. She did not remember seeing anyone else in the room, hearing them shout in panic and grab their own weapons, training every sword, staff, dagger and crossbow on her angry form.

She had him pinned to the wall, one fist in his robes holding him in place, her knife against his throat, hard enough to break the skin should he move.  
"Anders, you bastard. You're a fucking dead man." She growled, her rage not ebbing one bit. She'd saved him from Templars, and okay, she may have done it a little to piss off that self rightous twat of a Templar in particular, and possibly to rile up the King a little, but she'd done it because she needed more Grey Wardens, and mages were useful, especially healers.

They'd not been 'come up to my room' close, though it was not for lack of Anders trying to get such an invite, Eve felt he was a bit more of the cuddly type. That did not work for her. But they had been fairly close, as much as she let people nowadays. He was amusing at best, occasionally irritating, sometimes he reminded her of someone she'd rather forget. But then he'd gone and gotten himself killed. Or, from the very alive form in front of her now, had not.  
She expected some ridiculous comment from his mouth, an apology perhaps? She certainly did not expect his very warm very unwelcome lips on hers. The shock of it was cold water to her hot rage, and she was quick to back away from him, her brows furrowed in disbelief. No one had ever done that to her! No one!  
"Sorry sweetheart." He shrugged a half smile on his lips, "wanted to do that for ages, and with us both apparently dead, well, no time like the present!"  
She stared at him for maybe half a second before the indignation of it boiled up inside, she took a step towards him, smiled sweetly, and head butted him hard enough to crack his nose.  
"Argh!" Anders screamed falling to the floor holding his bloody face. "What the...?"  
Eve rubbed her head, not giving away any hint it hurt like a fucker.  
"Welcome to the afterlife." She said flatly.  
"Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?" Some man demanded from behind her, his voice both filled with confusion and anger. She turned round ready to give him one if her 'none of your concern, Grey Warden business' speeches when her eyes locked with a set she hadn't seen since she escaped Ostagar. In Lothering to be precise. That she just so happened to have known since she was fifteen.

"Garrett?" "Eve?" They both spoke at the same time, disbelief in both their voices. He moved his staff in to a less threatening position, Eve held on to her knife like a lifeline, but it couldn't help her from drowning in the sea of past memories she'd been trying to escape from.

Garrett. Garrett Hawke from Lothering. A brother, a sister, a dead father and a mother who Eve had once pretended she'd like as her own. Garrett who gave her somewhere to stay when she had none, food to eat when she starved. She helped him and his family avoid the Templers. He was her first kiss, her first love, her first... Well, he was a lot of firsts. She'd saved him from some idiot who saw him do magic and was going to report him to the Templars. That had been her first kill. She'd had to leave and he'd begged to go with her, even though she knew he wouldn't really. She left for Denerim and put away the childish fancies he represented, only seeing him once more when she, Alistair and Morrigan had stopped there for supplies. She'd told him to take his family and leave. Again he'd asked to go with her, and again she said no.  
Before she could do anything his arms were around her, he was larger than she remembered, muscles she never had memory of wrapped around her like a vice. He smelt of drink, dust and memories of happy times. For a second she almost hugged him back. Almost. But fear rose up her throat, a burning bile of realisation that her escape from Eve Darrow was scuppered so damn soon.  
"Fuck." She breathed out in a shaky breath, realising how many questioning glances were burning her skin. Anders was still swearing to himself in the corner, and Garrett had only pulled away enough to stare in to her face with those wildly yellow eyes of his.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice thick with emotion, he never had been one to hide his feelings.  
"I, err, I..." She stumbled over words, her mouth dry, her tongue felt like wood. Her grey eyes darted round the room, she felt like a caged beast.  
"That's Eve." Anders spoke nasally, his hand stemming the slowing trickle of blood from his nose.  
"I know its Eve." Garrett replied looking past her and scowling at the healer. His hands firm on her arms as if he knew how close she was to bolting. "What I want to know is how you know it's Eve?!"  
"What? She's Eve Darrow, you know, Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander? The supposedly dead woman I just been telling you about for the last Maker knows how long!" He huffed.  
Eve heard a few gasps around the room. It was all getting a bit too dramatic for her tastes.  
"Shit." Garrett looked down at her, "I didn't know you were that Eve, I thought that was another one." He laughed. "So um, Eve, why are you here?"  
Eve swallowed audibly, her mind in over drive. She could lie, then excuse herself, pack her bag and leave, tonight, walk to Starhaven maybe? Or camp in the mountains? They couldn't be worse than the Brecilian forest surely.  
"Don't." Garrett growled, breaking her from her maddening train of thought. "I know that look, that's the look you get each time you buggar off and leave me behind. You're not going anywhere."  
Eve laughed, a hard bitter sound. "Really Garrett? You're going to stop me?" She glared at him, pushing him away with a strength that obviously shocked him from the look on his face. "You think you can stop me who traipsed around Ferelden gathering an army, killed a bloody tainted dragon, darkspawn and a load of other shit you really never want to imagine, faked my own death and you think you can stop me from walking out that door and doing a disappearing act like bloody sparkle fingers over there did on me a year ago? Good fucking luck!" She snorted and turned to leave, calmly, she wouldn't show him, Anders or the rest of their little group that desperation she felt in getting away. Too many knew she was alive now. She needed to get far away and quick.  
"I'll paralyse you." Garrett told her. "Don't think I won't."  
"Whatever." She waved a hand dismissively as she looked over her shoulder.  
"I don't think he's kidding." She saw the dwarf say as he holstered his crossbow. "Five sovereign says he does." He winked at her. Eve's eyebrows shot up at the audacity of him.  
"I'll take it." Said a half-naked, dark skinned woman Eve couldn't believe she hadn't seen.  
"He won't get the chance." Anders told them taking a seat, watching the standoff between Eve and Garrett like a spectator.  
"No bets." Garrett growled watching Eve. She couldn't ever remember him growling.  
"What do you care anyway?" Eve said, turning around and folding her arms under her chest. A delicate eyebrow raised. "If I hadn't sensed Anders you would never have known. For Makers sake you didn't even know I was the Warden-Commander."  
"I didn't know you were a Grey Warden, let alone that Grey Warden."  
"I couldn't tell you back in Lothering, they were hunting us down."  
"That's not the point. You're here, you're not dead. Why do you want people to think you're dead?" Eve opened her mouth to speak but Garrett was quick to interrupt "Don't say it's Grey Warden business because we get that off of Anders already and we all know that's bollocks."  
"Not completely." Anders groused under his breath.  
"It doesn't fucking matter, Garrett. I'm here right now because I'm angry at Anders," she turned the Mage. "This is not over by a long bloody shot you hear me? I spent days combing the area for your body, and we declared you dead, taken by the darkspawn. Do you know how awful that was?" She was nearly shouting at him. "We had a pyre for you with nothing on. Sigrun was practically beside herself, you arsehole." She was in his face now her voice trembling with anger, "You had friends! They thought you were dead! I even kept your stupid cat until I left."  
"I'm sorry. I am. But, correct me if I'm wrong, haven't you done exactly the same thing?" He scowled at her.  
Eve started to reply but then stilled, her face paling in realisation that in fact, yes, she was playing at being dead just like him. But Anders didn't have Weisshaupt on his back like she had. She hadn't had the friends he did. She was the cold, hard commander. A veneer of hostility at present at all times. She was polite when it counted and a raging warrior when she needed to be. She fucked but she wasn't exactly friendly. The friends she had once were gone in different directions or no longer friends.  
"It's not the same at all." She said calmly, clamping down on the torrent of anger inside her and turning away.  
"We still need to talk, Eve." Garrett said softly, touching her arm as she passed him.  
"Third door on the left." She told him not looking his way. "Alone. And bring drink. A lot of fucking drink." She walked out closing the door behind here.

Nope, Kirkwall was not what she expected at all.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter 5

"Shit Hawke," Varric laughed, pouring them both a drink, "It's never dull around you!"  
Hawke didn't reply, just stood staring at the door Eve had slammed shut behind her.  
"And sparkle fingers 'eh?" The dwarf turned to Anders, "That's going in my book! Heh, I got a whole new load of material here!"  
Before Hawke could let Anders answer he spun around and glared at his short friend.  
"No." He stated in a low angry voice. "You won't write anything about her, not a bleeding word you hear me, Varric?" He put his hands on the low table and bent his head to look him in the eye. "If she wants people to think she's dead it's for a good reason. I know her, that person who stormed in here wasn't the Eve I knew." He let out a ragged breath. He still couldn't believe it, that the feisty teenager he knew from Lothering was the same woman hailed as the Hero of Fereldan. The girl who he used to sneak off at night to meet behind Barlens barn for stolen kisses was the same one who'd stormed in and held a knife to Anders throat and head butted him in to submission without flinching. The Eve of the present didn't appear to be anything like the Eve he'd fallen in love with years before Kirkwall. Could seven years make that much difference? No, surely not.  
"Nope, Hawke, that most definitely is the Eve we both apparently know." Anders spoke up, now slouched over the table mopping up blood from his face. "She's always been that fierce, even saw her pull the arm off an ogre once, bloody marvellous that was!" He smiled with blood stained teeth.  
"If you think that's her then you don't know her very well." Hawke replied tersely.  
"And how well do you know the hero, Hawke? Do I sense a grand and heartbreaking story of love between you two?" Varric started to joke, and Hawke was too drink addled not to blush at the truth of his words, and Varric didn't miss a trick. "Aw, shit!" He laughed his palm slamming the table, "It is as well! C'mon Hawke, if you're banning me from writing it, you can at least tell it."  
"No. She hates people talking about her private life." He crossed his arms.  
"Hawke," Varric pleaded.  
"No!"  
"Oh wait," Isabela sidled up to him, her hands roaming over his chest, which he was only too happy about earlier, but now were just annoying, "Is that the sweet thing you laid out behind the barn and sunk your staff in that you telling me about the other night?" She laughed, he couldn't tell if she was mocking him or not. He blushed harder. Buggar.  
"Why would you have attacked her with your staff?" Merrill mused from her chair by Varric. It would have been funny if Hawke wasn't so angry, embarrassed and confused by the whole situation.  
"Well kitten," Isabela started, leering at Hawke suggestively, "when a boy and a girl like each other very much, they..."  
"Enough!" Hawke cried, pushing away from the table and walking out the room. "I'm going to talk to her, alone." He stated the last part directly at Isabela who looked like she longed to be there.  
"Can you tell her I'm sorry?" Anders asked meekly. "And please don't tell her about Justice, not yet." He pleaded.  
"You know, the world doesn't revolve around you and Justice. It's your place to tell her anyway." And he left Varric's suite to find out what in Thedas was going on.

Hawke had been standing outside Eve's room for five minutes, one hand poised to knock, the other with two bottles of some strong spiced wine he remembered she was once partial to. He wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her. He had missed her, seeing her in Lothering three years ago had confirmed the fact he wasn't really 'over' her, and tonight that feeling was even stronger. He was about to knock when she shouted at him through the door in that rich voice of hers.  
"Come in Garrett or fuck off. Don't just bloody stand there like a pervert." He laughed quietly; she still had a way with words.  
He pushed the door open to find her leaning back on the bed, arms draped over her eyes. She wasn't looking at him so he took a moment to look at her.  
Even though he'd seen her at Lothering only a few years ago, she'd been in heavy plate, and in his mind she was still the teenager he remembered. But the Eve in front of him was no teenager. She had left behind the skinny youth she once was, that was for sure. His mother had called her a 'late bloomer', and at the time he had dismissed it, not all girls were meant to be as curvy as Bethany had been at 13. Teenage Eve had been lanky and bony. Eve the woman was tall, curvy and well, Hawke couldn't help it if he started to feel a little flustered looking at her, he was human after all. Long muscular legs were wrapped in form fitting leather splayed out in front of her, knee high laced boots only accentuated the curve of her calf and the soft roundness of her thighs. She wore only a black shirt, whose hem was no longer covering a flat and toned stomach, and certainly there was no hiding her, um, endowments. Maker, she could put Isabela to shame. She certainly had been a late bloomer.  
"You finished leering yet?" She said peering out from under her arms, grey eyes flashing at him with annoyance. "You're worse than a sex starved sailor." She half smiled sitting up on her bed and leaning forward.  
"Sorry." Garrett grumbled uncomfortably at being caught looking at her a little too intently. He saw that her once long and wavy hair, the colour so red it was nearly black, no longer reached her waist and was cut to her jawline haphazardly. It still looked good, but he remembered how lovely her hair was long, thick and silky through his fingers. How she wore it to hide the scar on her face she was so ashamed of.  
"I had to cut it." She spoke, he'd been staring too intently, and she ran her hands through the drastically shorter strands. "Easier to take care off at least." She shrugged.  
"Why are you here?" Hawke asked, broken from old memories. He sat down next to her on the bed, passing her one of the bottles he had brought with him.  
Eve looked the bottle over in her hands and smiled. "You remembered I liked this." She avoided his question, she had always been good at diverting the conversation.  
"Of course I did," he nudged her shoulder playfully, trying to hide his discomfort at being close to her. It was like he was 19 and naive again trying to impress a girl that was far more worldly than he. "You used to steal enough of it from the Chantry stores!"  
"We," she corrected him, pulling the cork out with ease- Hawke never remembered her being that strong. "I definitely remember you helping me sneak it out and then quaffing most of it!" She smirked, taking a good gulp of the red liquid.  
"You did often drive me to drink." He took a mouthful from his bottle as she snorted mirthfully.  
"You never complained."  
His eyes caught hers for a moment, and he almost forgot there were years between Lothering and Kirkwall, that she wasn't just some girl he fell in love and he wasn't just some apostate mage who still had most of his family.  
Eve coughed uncomfortably and turned away first, a near silent sigh escaping her full lips. "I never wanted to be a Grey Warden. Never wanted to be thrown in to the madness of the Blight, running around Ferelden collecting an army of misfits. I didn't ask to be Warden-Commander, but I was the only one besides the King in Ferelden to do it. I'm lucky that way I guess." She drank some more, Hawke followed suit. "It wasn't easy, but I did it, made decisions I didn't want to and will always regret, but I did it as best as anyone in my position could."  
"Anders told us some stories about Amaranthine. It sounded, well, bad. And we've all heard tales of the Blight, if even half of it's true I certainly don't envy what you had to do."  
She nodded, her eyes downcast. Hawke didn't miss the slight frown on her face, her lips thin out in distress, even though she quickly regained this new composure of hers. Hard and cold he'd heard the Hero be called, she was a far cry from the girl who laughed and cried freely, who sought out trouble because it was 'fun'.  
"You can tell me about it if it helps." He grasped her hand, smaller than his, but still strong and calloused, used to hard fighting.  
Her eyes flicked to him, searching his face, like she was about to say something but she shook her head and removed her hand from his. "I can't, talking about it doesn't change it. Better to forget it. That's why I'm here after all. To start anew. Guess its easier said than done. Was like some twisted reunion in there. Better not be any Kings popping up anywhere, that would just be the icing on the cake."  
"Kings?" He asked puzzled.  
She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, all best forgotten."  
"Even me?" Hawke spoke his inner monologue out loud, apparently he'd had too much to drink.  
Eve stole a look at him again, "like I could forget you, Garrett Hawke." She smiled. He couldn't help but smile back, she was the only one apart from mother who called him Garrett now. To everyone else he was Hawke. It was somewhat ridiculous how warm he felt with his name on her lips.  
"I'll need to make arrangements and leave soon." She started to say. "Too many people know who I am now, someone will talk, people will find out, I can't..."  
"No!" Hawke cut her off fiercely, he wouldn't have her buggar off again, she looked so sad, so lost, so not Eve. She needed him, like she once had as the fifteen year old starving desperate Eve. And truth be told, he needed her too. He'd lost too much of his past already to let her go. "Those people in that room are all my friends, they're loyal to me, they owe me. I'll make sure they don't say anything, and they won't. I promise you." He held her eyes with that promise.  
"Don't make promises you can't keep." She told him sadly, looking away, staring at the now empty bottle in her hands.  
"I can keep that one, I swear to you." He stood, only swaying a little from the drink. "Look, come and meet them all, they'd love to meet you properly."  
"I'm not sure me attacking Anders made a great impression."  
"Depends on who you ask, I think Fenris was suitably impressed." He smiled at her.  
"Garrett, thank you, but I'm just not in the mood. I just, I won't go, not yet. I'll stay for a little while at least, no running off without a goodbye I swear. But let me be alone for now, I need to think."  
"Okay, good, thank you." He smiled widely at her. "I know mother would love to see you!"  
Eve's face brightened, "Of course, Leandra, Oh Maker, I didn't think, and Carver and Bethany would be here too!" She smiled properly then, until she looked at Garrett's face, the loss of his siblings still raw enough that he couldn't hide it. "What happened?" She stood, the wine bottle dropped, her hands grasping his, the Eve he knew, so concerned and not afraid to touch standing in front of him looking up in to his face.  
"We lost Bethany back in Lothering." His voice cracked, "Carver not long ago. We funded an expedition in to the Deep Roads. It didn't go as planned. He got sick and well..." He didn't have to tell her, she was a warden, out of anyone in Thedas she would know what had to be done to a person with Blight sickness.  
She pulled him in to an embrace, "I'm so, so sorry." She breathed warmly in to the curve of his neck. It felt so good to be comforted like this, by her, like a balm to the wound. But she still pulled away too soon.  
"Thank you." He replied, not stopping to tuck a tendril of red hair behind her ear.  
"I better go back before they send a search party." He didn't want to end this moment of whatever it was, but at least she wasn't going anywhere for now. "I'll call round in the morning okay?" She nodded, stepping out of his reach as if she knew he was going to kiss her chastely on the cheek before he left.  
"Tomorrow then. Goodnight Garrett." She spoke softly, turning away.  
"Sleep well Eve." He said softly closing the door behind him, swearing he heard her say 'that'll be a first.' And went to face what he knew would be a barrage of questions from his friends.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter 6

She was going to see Anders today. She'd waved off Garretts offer to accompany her to the underbelly of Kirkwall with claims that it wasn't safe, and she was sure he kept forgetting she was no longer a skinny 17 year old barely able to hold the great sword she now carried on her back through the dark stifling paths of Darktown. She was willing to give him a good, quick reminder if needed, she'd picked up some skills in the last few years that would surprise even him, Garrett Hawke, the battlemage he'd apparently turned himself in to.

Darktown was grim. Refugees packed in like livestock. Shady dealings in every dark corner, people sleeping in their own filth, desperation in their eyes. She quickened her pace, taking the route Garrett had told her. Even if she had gotten herself lost it was easy to see where his clinic was, a line of people at the door marked it as such.  
She pushed her way through the mass, ignoring the mumbles of annoyance that quickly dissipated in to fearful silence once they saw the sword on her back.  
Anders was hovering over a woman obviously very pregnant, the blue aura of his healing visible on his hands. He didn't look up until he had finished, having felt the taint from her calling to his own no doubt.  
He accepted thanks from the woman and made his way over to Eve as she stood in the corner trying to look inconspicuous.  
"You came." His voice was both relieved yet filled with worry. "I've only got a few more patients to see to before I can lock up and then, um, we can talk." She merely nodded in reply and waited.

It took an hour, a slow hour, for the last person to be ushered out and the doors locked before they could talk. Anders silently motioned for her to take a chair by the desk, but she preferred to stand.  
"You wanted to talk?" He said, forcing a lightness in to his voice, but Eve could tell by the way his fingers twisted in the sleeve of his shirt that he was a ball of nervous energy.  
"Actually, I wanted you to talk. To explain why you're here." She replied bruskly.  
"How about we tell each other our dramatic stories of faked death and laugh about it?"  
"No. Begin." She commanded, and even Anders who'd spent nearly a year under her command knew when to be serious and do what she said.  
"Fine." He turned around, dragging a hand over his face. "But you're not going to like it."  
"When has that ever stopped your talking before?"  
"Touché!" He looked at the floor for a moment before taking a long breath.  
"I just want you to know I always appreciated you stopping those Templars from taking me away, and then for agreeing to help destroy my phylactery, even though, you know it was all a ruse." He looked at her as if he expected her to say something, but Eve remained silent, wanted to hear why he was in Kirkwall, not dragged to the Deep Roads like everyone had believed. "Hmm, so during that time, after you found Justice, well, we became quite good friends. And I started to think how awful it was to be trapped in a decomposing body of a dead warden. We both believed that there was a better solution. I wasn't exactly happy at the Keep, no offence, you were a good Commander, but it felt like I'd just swapped one prison for another. Albeit without all the Templars, and the punishments and well, you know.  
"Justice understood the unfairness of how mages were treated, their suffering, he convinced me that I could do something to stop it, to help, that I could make a difference."  
"Where is he now, Anders?" Eve had a terrible sense of foreboding, that Anders tale was way more complicated than she first thought. 'Coward' she had affiliated with his name, spending his whole life running away. She didn't agree with locking up all mages in prison like towers, but she knew some of them were bad, blood mages, demons, she'd seen the damage they'd done at Kinloch Hold, whether it was born out of desperation or not, some mages were too weak for the powerful gift they had.  
"I just thought, a willing host, a living body had to be better than a corpse."  
"Anders..."  
"We merged." He looked at her wildly, "that is, Justice is part of me now. He inhabits my body instead of Kristoff's."  
"What?" She nearly screamed, "How could you?" He flinched at her voice.  
"I know. In hindsight it wasn't one of my brightest ideas. And when he merged, well, I had too much anger, too much hatred for Templars. He isn't the same Justice you knew. Even I'm not the same."  
Eve turned and stalked away from him, a thousand thoughts running through her head. "Why didn't you just tell me?" She said whipping around.  
"I couldn't. When it happened, I... was different. I knew I had to leave, made it look like I'd been taken by darkspawn." He smiled at her, a shadow of his usual grin.  
"I want to talk to him." She stood in front of him now, only slighter shorter than he was, but her anger making her seem more like she was ten foot tall.  
"I'm not sure that's a good idea." He murmured, shuffling his feet.  
"Tell him I want to talk,"  
"He's not the same Justice you befriended, Eve... He,"  
She stepped up him, her eyes aflame with anger at his deception, grabbing the collar of his robes and bringing him nose to nose with her. "Now!" She snarled in to his face, the shoved him back waiting for him to comply.  
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." He said with a resigned sigh.

Anders closed his eyes for a moment, to Eve it looked like the start of a stupid parlour trick she'd seen in a tavern once where a woman had made out she could channel the dead.  
Suddenly she felt the air in the room change, thicken. Blue light seemed to radiate from Anders body, slowly at first until it burst brightly, blinding Eve momentarily.  
"You wished to speak with me, Commander."  
When she looked at Anders again he was glowing, cracks in his skin, as if he were made of stone, burned with a blue light. His eyes, usually warm brown and full of mirth, were pulsating orbs of blue. She felt the precense of the fade, having visited it enough to know the feel of it.  
"Justice?" She asked cautiously, fighting a tremble in her voice.  
"It is." His voice was like Anders, but not. Like his voice was speaking distorted, deepened, self-righteous.  
"I can't believe it." She stared at the man in front of her. "We thought you'd just returned to the fade when we found Kristoff's body. Why did you let Anders do this?"  
"Anders offered. He felt compassion for my fate. Just as he feels compassion for the plight of mages. I helped him understand he must give the mages justice. He eventually agreed. Both our paths intertwined."  
"You are a fade spirit. It is not your place to deal out justice in this world." Eve stated angrily.  
"Yet I am trapped in this prison, it has become my place."  
"What are you forcing Anders in to?"  
"Nothing he does not agree with." His voice was so disconcerting.  
"What you've done is wrong. The Justice I knew would never have agreed to such a thing."  
"And how would you know, mere mortal that you are, what a spirit of justice would do?"  
"We were friends, of a kind, we spoke often, I like to think I knew you."  
"You helped me understand some facets of human nature, but you had no real ideals, no true path other than the one you were forced in to. You felt no true compassion for anyone, unconcerned with the cruelty and injustice of your world. Anders showed me the true wrongs in this place, children torn from their mothers arms to grow up raped, tortured and beaten in to submission. Murdered or cut off from the beauty of the fade in the barbaric practice of Tranquillity." His voice had risen into a roar of anger.  
"There is injustice everywhere, spirit, as Grey Wardens we fought some of it..."  
"Darkspawn are nothing compared to the mages. Their plight is the only injustice that matters."  
"You are mad."  
"Anders opened my eyes, I opened his. You commander should know better than anyone the cruelty of Templars. Your father was one was he not..."  
"Shut up!" She growled at the spirit,  
"... He beat you, hurt you, scarred you. Then when he died you were cast out in to the world alone. Then the next Templar you trusted chose a Kingdom over your love. You have been betrayed and hurt by the monsters who claim to work for the maker."  
"Shut up! You have twisted everything I ever told you in confidence." She screamed at him, drowning in his venomous words. "You are not Justice! You are nothing but a demon!" She closed in on him, staring in to the inhuman glare of blue eyes. "I will send you back to the fucking fade myself!"  
"Justice has not been served, I will kill you if you try to return me before the plight of mages has been rectified!" He roared, a voice no longer the Justice she once knew, no longer the soft tones of Anders voice either. It was something twisted, like the voices of a hundred warring spirits.  
Before she could react a hand enclosed around her throat, inhuman strength cutting off her breath and picking her from the floor so she was left flailing for her sword.  
"You will understand Justice, Commander and traitor to the Grey. You will understand the need for me."  
"Fuck you," she mouthed at him, before gathering all the strength and stamina she had left and sending out a smite powerful enough to send them both careening away from each other, cutting Justice off from the fade abruptly and painfully.

She gulped down air, her throat bruised and swollen making it painful to swallow. It was only when she started to pick herself off the floor she saw it wasn't just her and Anders/Justice in the clinic, but Garrett, the tattooed elf and that dwarf too. Shit.  
"I knew you coming here alone was a bad idea." Garrett said bent over, grimacing in pain, apparently her smite hadn't just affected Justice and Anders.  
"I'm fine." She turned to him dusting off her armour.  
"No, you're not, you're hurt." He replied, walking over to her slowly.  
"You followed me here like a child." she said, anger growing yet again, "You knew about Justice." Her words were statements painted in rage.  
"Yes, Anders wanted to tell you himself, but I wanted to say something. I knew it would end badly, you should have let me come with you in the first pla..."  
She punched him in the jaw before he could finish.  
"I can look after myself!" She glared at him. "Stop treating me like that stupid foolish girl back in Lothering."  
She went to stalk out, "How much did you hear?" she asked quietly not turning round.  
"Everything Justice said." Garrett replied sounding defeated and unhappy.

She walked out, uncaring as to how much Anders was hurt, or Garrett for that matter. She was angry at them all, angry at their deception and the complete wrongness of what they had done. She was angry that Justice had thrown private words back at her like poisonous barbs. Angry that Garrett and his friends had heard. Ashamed that they'd heard. Her brutal childhood at the hands of a mad father was not information she shared trivially, Garrett hadn't even known. She had told Justice because he wouldn't judge her for it, pity her for it, or look differently at her for it. He had asked questions about the world around them, what it was to be human. So she had shared. More fool her. A weak moment she had paid the price for.


	7. Chapter Seven

Authors note:

Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read this and big BIG thanks to Musicalrain for taking the time to review! Here's chapter seven to say thank you and I'll let you in to a little secret... I've already written a few more chapters, I'll try to update every few days or so! Enjoy!  
~OoW~

Chapter 7

Hawke didn't see Eve for almost a week. He kept going to her room in the Hanged Man, but his pleas through the door for her to talk to him had gone unanswered. At one point he was convinced she had gone and left Kirkwall like she had threatened to do so soon after arriving, but Varric had assured him that his ears to the ground had confirmed she was still here.  
Didn't make him feel any better about it though.  
Bloody Anders and bloody Justice.

He worried about her, thought about her, couldn't stop feeling hurt she'd told a fade spirit about her past, when all she had told him was that she had no parents. If had been enough at the time, he didn't want to ask too much and push her away. But now knowing a little of the truth, he felt she never trusted him enough to tell him.  
And a Templar that had chosen a Kingdom over her? Was that the Warden-King Alistair he'd heard about? That blond, bumbling wall of a bloke she'd been in Lothering with?  
Why was he even bothered if it was? Eve and he weren't together now, she hadn't made him think they would be again, but being able to reminisce with her about what they had before felt so good, so much better than remembering his brother and sister were dead, that his mother was more concerned with her standing amongst the nobles and the Amell name than thinking of the past. It was like his father had never existed. She called herself Lady Amell now, it made him feel ill.  
So when Bodahn announced a visitor one morning while he was writing in his journal up in his room, he almost fell over backwards to see it was Eve.  
"Maker, I'd thought you left Kirkwall!" He breathed in relief as she stood in his doorway looking awkward.  
"I did say I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye though." She said quietly, her eyes looking everywhere but him.  
"Is that why you're here then? You're leaving Kirkwall?" He couldn't help the sadness from leaking in to his words.  
"No, I'm not leaving. Not for time being anyhow. I have discovered how refreshingly uncaring Kirkwall seems to be about the Blight or The Hero of Fereldan in general. It's only the Fereldans that seem to give a shit about the stories, and they seem to believe quite strongly I'm dead. Oh, and apparently even if I weren't, they somehow think I stand 12 feet tall and shoot lightening from my eyes!" She smiled at him then, though he noticed it didn't fully reach her eyes. "Actually I came here to apologise." She continued stepping towards him.  
"What for?" Hawke couldn't help but be surprised, she didn't have anything to apologise for.  
"For punching you." She lightly brushed the fading bruise on his face with her fingertips.  
He blushed slightly, it was the first time she'd touched him so intimately. But maybe he was reading too much in to it.  
"Oh yeah that," he laughed awkwardly. "Apology accepted. And, err, if you wanted to talk about, you know, what Justice said, about your father..."  
"I don't." She said harshly. Crap, he'd said the wrong thing again.  
But she shook her head slightly. "Sorry." Her face softened. "There's not much to say, especially if you heard it already."  
"How come you never told me? About your father?"  
"I told you he was dead."  
"You never mentioned he was a Templar or that he was a complete bastard from the sounds of it."  
"I was, I am still, ashamed I suppose. Wanted to forget about it. Didn't want you to judge me, feel sorry for me."  
"I wouldn't judge you for something like that." Hawke took one of her hands in his, "You have nothing to be ashamed of." He looked at her face, her eyes watched their twined hands. He looked at the scar that marred her face. Silvery, pink and rugged. Eve had told him once how she hated it, thought it made her look ugly, he'd told her honestly that it didn't, in fact he always thought it only added to that dangerous beautiful look she had, even more so as a twenty three year old woman. She would never say how she got it, but he would catch her tracing it with a terrible pained look upon her face and knew it wasn't an accident.  
"Did your father do that?" He asked softly.  
"Always with the questions," she smiled at him. "Yes, he did."  
"Why? how could any father do that?"  
She sighed heavily. "I was... maybe eleven I think, it was hard to tell back then, name days weren't celebrated.  
He was in one of his rages, not helped by his lyrium addiction. He was beyond mad in the end, but he'd always been cruel. He thought I was my mother, thought I was a demon wearing her face. I don't remember much about it, but I do remember him holding me down as he tried to cut off my face. Luckily he was stopped when someone heard me screaming." Her brows drew down in pain.  
Hawke felt sick. He knew bad things happened in the world, he knew there were sick and cruel people in it, he had seen the evidence of it, but to know it had happened to someone he knew and cared about churned his stomach.  
"I'm sorry." He hugged her, he didn't know what else to do.  
"Why," she laughed coldly, "you didn't do it." She pulled away. "Besides he's dead now. I got over it."  
"Damn right you did!" He grinned at her. "Archdemon slayer, conqueror of darkspawn! Hail the Hero of Ferelden!" He declared dramatically.  
She smacked him playfully on the shoulder, "Shut up!" She laughed. It was good to see her laugh, like having a bit of the old Eve back.  
"Just don't feel sorry for me alright? You know I can't stand that shit."  
"Pfft, feel sorry for you with the right hook you gave me, hardly! Jealous you can hit like that maybe, and a little surprised at the smiting, that was new." Truth be told he wasn't impressed with the smite, especially having felt the power of it, it was nothing short of painful, draining all his mana and disorientating him.  
"Learnt it from an ex-Templar friend during the Blight. Came in handy with emissaries. And Justice." She shrugged as if she knew he didn't like it.  
"Anders is mortified over what happened. He says he has little to no control over Justice when he comes out. He hasn't even come out of clinic in fear he'll run in to you and you'll kill him." In fact Anders had been close to leaving Kirkwall himself, it was only some quelling words from Varric that stopped him from running off. Hawke had seen him yesterday and he looked as though he hadn't slept in days over worry and guilt.  
"He's a fool for what he did." She stated.  
"No doubt, but he did what he thought was best at the time, he didn't think of the repercussions, I don't think he even thought it would go wrong."  
"And now he and Justice are obsessed over the plight of mages." She grumbled.  
"Well he does have a point, somewhere in the rambling nonsense of his manifesto."  
She gave a questioning glance at the mention of manifesto. "Don't ask! Unless you want something to put you to sleep!"  
"He's different now. They both are."  
"Everyone is." Hawke said wistfully.  
"Except you."  
"Huh?"  
"You're still as diplomatic and caring as always. Here was me thinking of ways I could punish Anders, and now you've talked me out of it!"  
He laughed at her. "Don't tell Anders that, I think he might like to be punished by you!"  
"Ugh, Garrett, thanks for that image!" She grimaced.  
"You're most welcome, Messere!" He bowed dramatically, pleased he could make her smile.  
"Thanks for the chat Garrett. Thanks for not being all..."  
"Sorrowful and shit?"  
"Yeah," she smiled. "Anyway, I've got to go now, took up some bodyguard jobs for some noble twat. Apparently wants me to wear, and I quote 'something as low cut as possible'. Maybe he wants to shock any attempts on his life with my tits!"  
"That is really, ugh, perverted."  
"Says the man who can't stop staring at Isabela's cleavage when she's in the room."  
He couldn't stop his face from burning bright red. He was sure he didn't leer that obviously, did he?  
"Don't worry, it's not like you can miss them." She smiled at him.  
"You know you don't need to take crappy jobs like that, Eve. I've got plenty of jobs coming up, you can come with me, I am always in need of an extra sword. We split any coin we get paid, and any loot. It will be way more fun than leering noblemen!"  
"Won't Fenris and Aveline mind? They're usually your swordsmen aren't they?"  
"Aveline has her hands full as Guard-Captain and well, some of our jobs aren't exactly legit. I don't want her doing anything illegal, not with her position. And Fenris won't mind, he was suitably impressed by your smite, especially as it was used on Anders, you might even have a fan, though, it's Fenris, you can't always tell whether he likes someone or wants to put his fist through their chest!"  
She seemed to mull it over for a moment, "Okay, yeah, sounds good actually. I miss fighting alongside others and I can finally see if you've improved your elemental magic."  
"I'll have you know my elemental is awesome, no accidental fires anymore!" He grinned at her. "I'll let you know about any jobs you might be interested in soon then, and I'll see you at the Hanged Man? Tonight?"  
"Sure," she pecked him on the cheek as she turned to leave. "See you later, Garrett." She called from the door.  
He waved her goodbye, his spirit feeling much lighter than he had done when he'd woken. Now he only needed to grow the balls to ask her to accompanying him to the Viscount Ball he'd been invited to. Nugshit as Varric would say.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

Eve noticed Garrett's friends liked drinking. A lot. They almost put her wardens to shame in fact, maybe not Oghren, that dwarf only fought well when completely imbibed.  
She was pretty sure they all kept the Hanged Man running, especially Varric and Isabela as they lived there, and so did she now she supposed. Oh how the mighty had fallen!

She sat at the table in Varric's suite, the whole place was opulently dwarven, it made her think of Orzammer and the palace. At least here there wasn't hundreds of feet of stone above her head, just dodgy roofing.  
Everyone else was scattered around the table too, even Anders, who she had made a somewhat tentative peace with. As long as he kept Justice under control, else she would, in her exact words 'shove his fucking staff where the sun don't shine and send him screaming to the fade.' It may have been a little on the dramatic side, he still shot her pale faced looks from time to time, but at least he knew where she stood in the whole Justice debacle. Firmly in the opposition camp.

She was getting on well with everyone else, a small part of her pleased she had decided to stay.  
After Justice's attack she'd holed herself up in her room for several days drinking herself in to oblivion, or trying, unsuccessfully. She wanted to get out of Kirkwall, going so far as to pack all her belongings. She had only been here for a little over a week and already nothing was simple. Nothing had gone to plan, not that it ever did. But she wasn't sure where she could go, she didn't have enough gold to buy passage on a ship anywhere, so she'd have to walk, and camp, in the dirt. She shuddered at the thought. She really had gone soft.  
Then she thought about it some more, minus the alcohol addling her mind. No one in Kirkwall spoke about her anymore, apparently her death didn't matter to the Free Marchers. There were no Grey Wardens here, save Anders, who was in no position to tell the Wardens where she was. And, if she was honest with herself, she liked being around Garrett again, even if he dented her hard, cold exterior. She also liked his friends, the camaraderie, not necessarily being a part of it, but watching and listening, particularly to Varric's stories and Isabela's lewd jokes. It reminded her of being among the wardens, before Weishauppt got involved.

"Silver for your thoughts, Deadly?" Varric's voice broke her from her musings. He'd taken to calling her by this new nickname at any opportunity.  
"Silver? You only offer me a copper!" Complained Garrett smiling from his seat beside her.  
"That's because I already know your thoughts, the copper is just a formality! Deadly on the other hand, her thoughts must be pure gold!"  
"Shouldn't you be offering me gold then?" Eve quipped, smiling at the hairy chested dwarf.  
"I'm a business man, I need to make a profit!" He laughed.  
"Not still thinking of leaving are you?" Garrett asked her quietly, his voice worried. Apparently her appeasement hadn't quelled his worries.  
She shook her head. "Just thinking how all this reminds me of the Wardens."  
"Nah," Anders spoke from across the table having heard her, "not enough gorging on food, or Oghren's disgusting table manners, or Nathanial giving you puppy dog eyes come to think of it." He laughed tentatively as if she would smite him for talking.  
"He did not give me puppy dog eyes." Eve replied indignantly.  
"I'm afraid he did. All the time. Over dinner, when he walked behind you and wasn't staring at your arse. If you walked passed him in the Keep without saying anything."  
She rolled her eyes at him.  
"Who's Nathanial?" Garrett asked, his face serious.  
"One of the Wardens back at Amaranthine." Anders replied before she could. "Totally in love with our ruthless Commander. Of course who wouldn't be if they shared her bed."  
"So he's your...?" Garrett choked out, "and you've let him think you're dead?"  
"Ugh, he's not my anything. Occasional roll in the sheets yes, but that was it. A woman has needs after all,"  
"I toast to that, Kitten!" Isabela slurred loudly, clinking her cup with Eve's, making her chuckle.  
"He knew what is was, and it certainly wasn't love." She turned to Anders, "and definitely no puppy dog eyes. The man was, is, a brooding force to be reckoned with."  
"Maybe he and Fenris should get together and start a brooding club!" Varric suggested, the whole table erupting in laughter while the elf merely mumbled 'Venhedis' in to his mug from the other side of the room.  
"Won't he be upset to learn you're, um, dead?" Asked Merrill quietly.  
"Wardens die all the time, it's part of the job description. I'm sure he's appropriately mournful, but he'll mourn me as a Warden, not like, a, you know..."  
"Loverrrrr," Isabela drawled, winking.  
"Yeah, that. The man is nothing if not resourceful. He'll do what needs to be done and get on with it."  
"Mmmm, sounds like my kind of man, sugar. Wish you had brought him with you. I like broody." Isabela winked suggestively at the brooding elf.  
"Don't think an Arls son would have slummed it with a pirate whore, Isabela." Anders nudged her.  
"Love affairs with a King and the son of an Arl huh, Deadly? You have expensive tastes indeed. Good thing Hawke is nobility or he'd have no chance!"  
"He's got no chance anyway!" Isabela commented, her cup refilled with rum again.  
"Hmm, thanks Isabela." Garrett grimaced. He turned to Eve, "Actually I did want to ask you something,"  
"Propositioning her in public, Hawke? Smooth." Varric deadpanned.  
"No!" He blushed furiously. "It's about a Ball,"  
"I'll help you look for yours if you lost them, sweet thing." Isabela leered at him, Garrett ignored her.  
"Not that kind, The Viscounts Ball, thank you very much! Well mother is adamant that I go, but I don't really want to go alone," Eve knew where this was going. Shit. She hated formal parties. Or parties in general. Especially if there was dancing. "Apparently someone let out the atrocious story I'm seeking a wife," he turned to Varric, "I'm looking at you, dwarf!"  
"Hey, I just tell the people what they want to hear! The ladies love the idea of a man rising from rags to riches. You've got a massive fan base you know!" He grinned.  
"Anyway... You were an Arlessa weren't you? Anders said so. Mentioned you hosted a few Balls... No comments from you Isabela!" The pirate chuckled knowingly. "And well, please say you'll come with me? Please?"  
"It's not a good idea." Eve stated, unable to come out with a better excuse.  
"It's an excellent idea. She looks fantastic in a dress, Hawke!" Anders commented a little too smugly.  
"You're on thin ice already mage, don't make me use that staff on you for less magical and more painful reasons." She threatened him. He went a lovely shade of green.  
"C'mon, I'll even buy your dress!"  
"I can't dance!"  
"Fenris can teach you!" He countered. She shot a look at the elf who couldn't look less disinterested in the conversation. She wasn't sure whether Garrett was joking about the dancing or not.  
"Seriously, it's a bad idea. The last time I was in a room full of nobles some Crow assassins dropped by to kill me."  
"Good thing you're officially dead and there won't be any contracts with your name on then!" He smiled. He was such a bloody smily drunk. Cuddly too, thank the Maker he wasn't at that stage yet.  
"Ugh, fine."  
"Knew I could convince you." He grinned like he'd got his Satinalia gift early.  
"I bet it was the thought of Fenris teaching her to dance." Isabela purred, "Bet he'd teach you the horizontal hump if you ask nicely."  
"You have a ridiculous concept of dancing, pirate." Fenris told her coldly.  
"I didn't hear a no." She sing-songed in reply.  
"No dancing." She told Garrett ignoring Isabela's little comments. "And I can leave when I want to."  
"Of course."  
"And you can't use me as an excuse to not speak with any of the women. We're not courting."  
"Fine." He grumbled.  
"Andraste's tits, Garrett, that's why you asked me wasn't it?" She speared him on an annoyed look that made him shrink in to his seat.  
"If I say no now, will you reconsider going as more than a friend? Just for appearances of course!"  
"No. But I'll make sure to rescue you from anyone who gets too touchy feely." Maybe.  
"That's something I suppose." He sighed "Better than taking Isabela." He mumbled in to his cup.  
"Hey! I heard that!" The pirate shouted indignant. "I didn't want to go anyway. It's boring. I've probably entertained most of the nobles at the Blooming Rose already."  
"You are such a whore." Aveline muttered.  
"Why thank you, Lady Man-Hands. That's quite the compliment coming from you!" She winked at the Guard-Captain.  
"We can go buy you a dress tomorrow if you like." Garrett suggested, slinging an arm casually over the back of her chair. Eve was starting to think maybe he hadn't been joking about the courting.  
"I'd rather not."  
"You have to wear a dress, Eve, it's a Ball."  
She sighed in annoyance, she hated wearing dresses. Completely inappropriate for fighting in. "I'll go by myself. You can owe me the money. Otherwise you'll have me in something as gawdy as the outfit you're currently sporting."  
"My outfit is not gawdy!" He looked horrified, "Isabela said the red and silver looked good on me."  
"Actually I was mostly just referring to how good the trousers looked all snug around that fine arse of yours." Isabela clarified.  
"Why are you even taking fashion advice from her anyway, Hawke. She doesn't even wear clothes." Aveline made a good point.  
"At least people know I'm a woman when they look at me, you confuse them in all that manly armour you wear."  
"Eve wears armour too, nothing wrong with it."  
"She's hot with a great rack. You are neither hot or have much of a rack to speak of."  
"Slattern!"  
"Prig!"  
"Enough already!" Garrett intervened. "You're giving me a headache!"  
"Actually it's probably the bottle of cheap wine you've gotten through." Eve told him.  
"And the two mugs of ale," added Varric.  
"Not to mention half my rum." Isabela pointed out.  
"Maker, Garrett, I could get rat arsed off your breath after that lot!" Eve was almost appalled, but she hadn't drunk much less.  
"You want to see if you can?" He slurred slightly leaning in to her.  
"Um, no." She pulled away slightly. Was he just jesting or being serious? She couldn't tell and she didn't know whether she wanted him to be serious or not. Eve still found him as attractive as she had done when she was younger, maybe more so now. He had grown a few inches since then, had a lot more muscles. Even his short and well manicured beard looked really good on him. But, hmmm, reliving a memory she looked on fondly? Maybe it was best left in the past. Besides, he seemed pretty friendly with Isabela, even if she was friendly with everyone. There was no way he hadn't had anyone since their time together, Eve had never wanted for that kind of company, even if she had only loved one of them. And that had ended painfully. She didn't want to go through that again, her heart was nowhere near enough mended to even want love again. She'd learnt the hard way that happiness ended badly eventually. No, Garrett was best left in the box labelled 'good memories' and to just appreciate him now as the friend he was turning out to be. What she needed him to be. Which was a surprise in itself. Although, if he was going to make a habit of inviting her to Balls for his own protection against the noble women of Kirkwall, that might change.


	9. Chapter Nine

Thank you to Musicalrain for your reviews! Having Varric call Eve Deadly just felt right! lol  
I am going to post a couple of chapters today as I'm feeling generous! :)

OoW

Chapter 9

Stupid Free Marcher dressmakers and their stupid ideas of fashion. And stupid Orlais fashions with their frills, and puffs and bouffant crap that apparently was the only thing they were interested in making. Shit. She'd either have to deal with being enveloped I'm fluffy, laced, ribboned things, or tell Garrett she wasn't going.

Why couldn't she wear a dress like the one she'd had back at the Keep, it was plain and fitted her fine. It was good enough for Fereldan nobility. No one had said anything bad about it when she wore it. Hmm, then again they hadn't said anything really, to her face. Though Anders did say she looked fantastic in a dress to Garrett the other night, but maybe he was taking the piss? Dammit, now she was getting all self-conscious like some kind of girl! Ridiculous! She kicked a stone that happened to be in her path as if were to blame.  
Unfortunately she ended up kicking it a little too hard and heard a yelp. Quickly she looked up to apologise, when she saw she'd actually kicked the stone at none other than Merrill who was rubbing her temple.  
"Oh Shit, Merrill!" She approached the slim elf, "I didn't mean to kick the stone at you. Are you alright?"  
"I think so, thank you, Eve. But it did hit me quite hard. Must have been a very offensive rock for you to kick it so hard." She replied, a small smile on her face. At least she wasn't bleeding, otherwise Eve might have felt a bit guilty.  
She looked down at Merrill's hands, "Um, Merrill? Why do you have a ball of twine?"  
"Oh! Varric gave it to me. I'm always getting lost and he thought it would help me get home, but I think one of the market traders in Lowtown got annoyed with me when it got tangled around her stall and cut it. So now I'm lost. Oh, and I'm in Hightown!" She smiled looking around. "We should go visit Hawke while we're here. His mother always serves me the nicest tea."  
Eve shook her head at the funny girl. "Sorry, but I can't right now, I'm trying to find a dress for the bloody Viscount Ball, it's in three days, and I really have to find someone who wont make it all pouffy and ugly and, well, Orlesian." She told her, curling her lip in disgust at the idea of such a monstrosity.  
"The Dalish don't have big formal events. Or special dresses. Unless they're getting bonded, but usually it's something very simple and pretty."  
"A shame I can't get a Dalish dress made then." Eve groused.  
"Oh, but you can, though maybe not exactly the same, since, well you're not Dalish, and rather, bigger than an elf." Eve raised her eyebrows at Merrill. "Oh, no, not like that, I mean in a lovely, very female way with your chest and bottom and... Oh el'garnan, I'm not making you sound any better am I?"  
"It's fine, Merrill. I know I'm not as slim as an elven female."  
"But you do have a very lovely chest and bottom. I see everyone look at them all the time, Hawke, Anders, Isabela even Fenris, and I caught Varric peeking once even though he claims Bianca is the only woman for him. Though she isn't a woman at all but a crossbow..." She looked up at Eve guiltily. "I'm rambling again aren't I?"  
"A bit." She wasn't sure if she should be worried or take it as a compliment so many of Garrett's friends were taking an interest in her backside. Merrill was probably just exaggerating.  
"Sorry."  
"It's fine, though you were talking about a dress?"  
"Yes! I was! There is a dressmaker in the Alienage. Just outside my home actually. I'm not sure of her name, but her assistant is called Nyassa, she's very nice."  
"Hmmm, that sounds better than trying to get a dress in Hightown. I think I'll head there now."  
"Um, do you mind if I come with you? It's just I am a little lost and you always seem to know where you're going, and I know you don't like talking much, I mean, you're always very quiet when I see you in the Hanged Man, though I suppose you do have a lot on your mind, and I know Wardens have a lot of secrets, Anders always says so... Oh I'm..."  
"Rambling again. Yes, Merrill." She sighed. Even Leliana never talked this much. "Of course you can come with me, I don't mind."  
"Oh good! I don't like being in Hightown on my own, they always mistake me for a servant and people are very rude to elves."  
"I don't like it here either. Come on, let's go see this dressmaker, hopefully they'll be talented enough to make me look nice."  
"I think you always look nice." Merrill blushed. Eve couldn't help but smile at the elf.

Merrill's suggestion had paid off, very well. A nice simple, elegant design had been agreed upon and paid for. The finished article delivered to the Hanged Man which she was happy with, considering she didn't like wearing dresses. At least she could wear her comfortable boots under it.

On the day of the Ball Garrett had invited, or rather insisted, she get ready at his estate, which Eve supposed was better than getting ready at the Hanged Man and her dress being filthy before she even got out the door. She'd even get a nice hot bath too, which she was scarily excited about.  
So now she was sat in his mother's room at the estate, after her lovely bath, smelling like roses and lilacs, with Leandra fussing about her hair, or lack of it.  
"Oh, Eve, it was so beautiful. Why did you cut it?" She said for the hundredth time. No one had told her about the fact Eve was a Grey Warden, or the Hero of Fereldan, or pretending to be dead. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her and she had been happy with the lie that Eve had come to Kirkwall to escape the Blight, same as her and Garrett, but only recently found each other.  
"It's easier to look after," she lied, "especially when wearing armour." Truth was she missed her hair, missed being able to use it to hide that hideous scar on her face, which was now bared for all the world to see. She missed the security of it, the vanity of it. She'd always loved her hair, and so had a few of the men in her life. Now it was another reminder of everything she didn't have. And her neck was always cold.  
Leandra pulled the brush through her hair again, "Well there's not enough of it to style it in the current fashion, but at least it's shining and a beautiful colour."  
"It'll do." Eve replied grabbing the hand mirror on the desk in front of her and having a look. "It looks fine. Thank you."  
"Do you need help painting your face? Putting on your dress?"  
"No, I can do that. Thanks though."  
To be honest, Eve was perfectly able to run a brush through her hair too, but Leandra had looked so sad when Eve had first refused her help, wistfully sighing that she missed helping Bethany get ready, that Eve had relented and agreed to her help.  
"I'll see you downstairs then dear. You and Garrett will make such a handsome pair tonight," she smiled, "you have always made a lovely couple, even when you were both younger."  
"We're not a couple, Leandra." Eve told her.  
"Mmm, we'll see." She said leaving the room.  
Eve scowled at the departing woman. As much as she liked Leandra, had once pretended she was her own mother, every time she saw the woman she hinted at marriage and how Eve and Garrett suited each other so well. It was as if she were trying to matchmake them. She needed a new hobby, or a man.

Eve was quite adept at doing her own makeup, she usually wore kohl around her eyes anyway, and a hint of colour to her lips. Tonight would be no different, though she was going to apply colour to her whole face, if only to camouflage her scar. Yeah, she was vain, she could have one vice... Or a few.  
Then she slipped on her dress. Deep blue silk she'd chosen, it was her preferred colour, except for black, but black seemed a little depressing for a Viscounts Ball.  
It was simply cut, off the shoulder, fluted sleeves to cover the many scars of battle on her arms, with a neckline that was a little too deep for her tastes but was attractive nonetheless, and laced tightly at the back. It was a good thing she was flexible enough to pull and tie the fastening ribbon that helped accentuate her slim waist herself, else she would have to call Leandra upstairs again, and she needed the alone time before an evening of oppressive nobles. The dress skimmed her hips and thighs most flatteringly and fell to sweep the floor. Her boots were her usual knee high lace ups, polished to a high sheen by Bodahn. Her only jewellery was a silver roped necklace. She no longer had the token pendant of her joining. That had been left on her 'corpse'. And yes, she still carried a pair of knives, Eve went no where without some form of weaponry.  
She took a breath, figured she looked presentable enough, and went to meet Garrett downstairs.

He and Leandra were chatting by the fireplace in the entrance hall. Garrett looked, well, good actually. A deep red embroidered overtunic that reached mid-thigh, fitted black velvet trousers tucked in to knee high boots. A silk shirt and black deep cut doublet finished the effect. He'd even tidied up his short beard.  
They didn't turn to look at her until she reached the bottom of the stairs at which point the two of them stood silent, staring at her. Uncomfortable.  
"Yes, I know, it's not that fashionable, and completely not Orlesian enough to impress a bunch of Kirkwall nobles," she started saying, knowing this was a bad idea. "But those pouffy skirted, lacy things make my shoulders look even broader and my backside even bigger. And one dressmaker even dared to tell me I should take up embroidery instead of a sword so..."  
"You look amazing." Garrett breathed interrupting her. "I think Anders was totally underestimating how good you look in a dress."  
She scowled at him. "Oh shut up. He was clearly taking the piss."  
"Eve, dear, you look lovely." Leandra confirmed. "A shame about your hair, but..."  
"Her hair looks great too, mother." Garrett told her firmly "Really great, just... wow in fact. Amazing."  
"Now you're taking the piss. I wish I was wearing armour."  
"No you don't." He smiled at her and went to thread her arm through his. "Because then you wouldn't be out shining me as amazingly as you are."  
"Is amazing the only word you know?" She cocked her head at him half smiling.  
"It is in that dress. You've rendered me almost speechless."  
"Maybe I'll wear dresses more often." She teased.  
"Maker I hope so." He said barely audibly. "Come, my lady, we have a Ball to attend, and I wish to make every noble man and woman jealous of the beauty I have on my arm!" He swooned at her.  
"Oh shut up." She rolled her eyes at him. So dramatic. She didn't look that good, but trust Garrett to try and make her think she did.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

Wow. Just... wow. Hawke looked at Eve out the corner of his eye again as they strolled arm in arm to the Keep, he thought maybe he should pinch himself it was so unbelievable, she was just, wow.  
He always thought Eve looked good, gorgeous really, but most of the time she wore heavy plate armour, or simple trousers with a loose shirt. But seeing her in a dress, for the first time ever he might add, he seriously didn't think there was anyone anymore gorgeous than her. And, though he didn't want to sound like a lech, she had amazing breasts. He wouldn't tell her that though, he'd end up in a lot of pain and she would make a point of covering them up in his presence. That might just be worse than dying, surely.  
Maker, was it hot tonight or what? He pulled at the collar of his tunic.  
"Are you alright?" She asked sounding only a little on edge.  
"Fine." he quickly replied smiling. He knew she wasn't happy about coming with him, he knew she hated parties, being the centre of attention. But he had not wanted to go to this stupid thing on his own and it was a great excuse to spend time with Eve, alone, or rather, without any of his little band of merry men and women.  
He had seen the way pretty much all of them looked at her. It didn't matter so much Isabela did, she leered at everyone. But Anders and Fenris? That he didn't like. At all. Maybe he didn't need to worry about Anders, they had spent the better part of a year in each others company and Eve had been clear that she hadn't ever given in to any of his advances, or ever would.  
But Fenris was a whole different kettle of fish. Hawke didn't even know Fenris had an interest 'like that' in anyone. He shrugged off Isabela's flirting with cold disdain, and he always seemed to be scowling, or angry, or angrily scowling. At everyone. He supposed there was good reason for it, being a hunted ex-slave with no memories of a life before his master, but still, he could try and smile on occasion.  
Maybe Fenris only looked at Eve with interest because she'd already managed to break Anders nose and then smite the shit out of him. Yeah, he reckoned that was it. He definitely didn't look at Eve with the same thoughts as Hawke, no way. Never. At least he better not be, His own thoughts were getting a little on the dirty side right now. He really needed a drink to cool down.  
"Are you listening to me?" He heard Eve say angrily. Crap.  
"Sorry?"  
"I've been asking you for the last few minutes if you know anyone here?"  
"Sorry. Just, a lot on my mind."  
"Hmm." She sounded unconvinced. And a little pissed off.  
"Well there's the Viscount Dumar, his son Seamus, nice enough lad if not a bit keen on the Qunari,"  
"What?"  
"Don't worry, it was like a year ago now that he decided to run off with some Qunari guys, we had to bring him back. Got a bit messy. You might not want to mention the Q word."  
"I'll try and remember that."  
"There's the Du Launcet's, though I don't really know them, Comte de Launcet was apparently once engaged to mother before she ran off with father, but I don't think he's bitter about it. Um, Seneschal Bran will probably be there. He's an arrogant twit, so we'll try and avoid him. Other than that, no, I don't really know any of them, I tend not to mix with them if I can help it."  
"And you couldn't try to help it this time?" Eve sighed.  
"Apparently not." He grinned at her. "Besides, it might be fun!"  
"Do you know how many times I've heard the line 'it might be fun' before it turned out it was not fun. At. All?"  
"Err, five?"  
"Way more than that." She scowled at him.  
"There's always a first."  
"No there isn't."  
"They'll be alcohol. Free alcohol. Decent free alcohol that hasn't been watered down, or corked, or been left in the sun for two weeks!"  
"I have missed a decent wine." She relented. Hawke definitely wouldn't be telling her about the very decent wine cellar Fenris had acquired. Just in case.  
"See, fun."  
"You are impossible."  
"Impossibly handsome?"  
"Ugh!"  
"You didn't deny it though. See, we're well matched, you amazingly wow, and me impossibly handsome."  
She laughed at him. She looked even better laughing than scowling, though that was pretty hot too.  
"You still introducing me as 'Eve Thorne from Lothering? Fled the Blight just after you did, a stroke of luck we both made it to Kirkwall'." They'd agreed on a simple story to tell people and that was easy enough to believe.  
"Since I can't introduce you as the woman I'm courting,"  
"Because you're not." She interrupted. 'Unfortunately' he grumbled to himself.  
"And cousin meant I couldn't rescue you from any unsuitable suitors with a suave kiss, so yes, friend from Lothering will have to do."  
"This way I won't put off any women who'll want to talk to you. You might meet someone nice." She countered.  
Hawke didn't want nice. He wanted gorgeous and sexy.  
"Yeah, not going to happen."  
"And why not? Is the rumour I heard about you true then?"  
"Huh?! What rumour?!" What had Varric said now?!  
"You and Isabela? Idiot. You know she likes you right?"  
"She likes everyone." He told her seriously, because it was true.  
"No. She'll fuck everyone. She likes you. Besides she's told me she wants to, hmmm, what did she say... oh yes, she wants to grope your grinder, praise your Maker and possibly, this is my favourite, Arl your Eamon!"  
"That last one makes no sense!"  
"If you'd been with me during the Blight is would, though you might end up with a disturbing mental image."  
"I don't think she's really my type."  
"What is your type then? Merrill? Aveline?" She persisted. Was she really that dense and not realise how much she liked him, or was she just playing hard to get?  
"Look, we're here, can we drop this? Please?"  
"Fine." She unhooked her arm from his and straightened out her dress. "It's Aveline isn't it?" She pressed quietly, grinning at him.  
"No. Now shut up and let's try and have some fun."  
"If you insist, Messere."

They entered the Keep together, Hawke hoped with a bit of decent alcohol she might be a bit less dense about how much he liked her and more inclined to reignite their romance from the past.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11

It had all started so well, even if Garrett was acting a little odd. Maybe he was embarrassed about her bringing up Isabela, not that Eve could figure out why, he was a grown man who fuck around with whoever he wanted to. Or maybe, and she both liked this reason the least, and felt it was very probable - he wanted to re-hash some long past romance they'd once had. Maker, she hoped not. She ought to talk to him soon, just in case, maybe give him a gentle push, or shove, in Isabela's direction. She hadn't been lying about the pirates attraction to Garrett and maybe if he got laid really well he'd get over her.  
Anyway, none of that had stopped Garrett from being a complete charmer with the women who flocked around him like starving dogs around a piece of prime beef. He mouthed the words 'help me' a couple of times but she had just smiled and turned away, flowing through the room like air, drink in hand, picking up bits of conversation. If eyes watched her she ignored them, if someone stepped too close she moved away. It was only when she came upon a group and heard a familiar name did everything kind of fall apart.  
"I don't know what those backwater Fereldan's were thinking putting a man like Alistair Theirin on the throne." A fellow Eve had been introduced to as Seneschal Bran was saying, his voice so self-righteous.  
"I believe it wasn't so much the people but that Grey Warden they ended up calling the Hero of Fereldan." An older woman replied, who looked like she alone had been the cause of the food shortages in Kirkwall when the refugees arrived, and had squeezed herself in to a pouffy Orlesian style gown Eve had been clever enough to avoid. "And wasn't she a woman? Of all the things!"  
"If you ask me," an Orlesian accented man continued, "Women should have no say in politics, they always make rash decisions."  
"Indeed." Replied the Seneschal, catching Eve's eye. "You there," such manners he had. "Are you not Fereldan? Serah Hawke is your compatriot isn't he?"  
"Yes, he and I are both from Fereldan. But we were not there during most of The Blight, or the Coronation."  
"And what do you think about the news of your King?" Eve inwardly grimaced. He was not her King. Not anymore.  
"And what news is that?" She asked, trying to be as polite as possible, despite the fact Seneshal Bran seemed unable to take his eyes from her chest.  
"That he is to marry the daughter of a low level Ferelden Lord, Bann Sighard I believe."  
Eve's mouth went dry. Her heart beat like it was in the death throes.  
"I... Didn't know..." She managed to stutter out. The room felt claustrophobic, suffocating.  
"That's practically inbreeding!" She heard the woman laugh haughtily.  
Eve felt sick. "Please, excuse me. I um... Sorry." She escaped the group  
"Even the Fereldan finds it repulsive!" The Orlesian sniggered.  
She fled as quickly as she could, from the laughter that followed her, mocked her, from the concerned glances, and the whispers of 'someone cannot hold their drink'.

All Eve could think was Alistair was getting married. Married. Married. To someone that wasn't her. To someone that would give him the heirs she couldn't. To someone who would share in his happily ever after while she just... drifted.  
Her eyes stung, her throat closing up with the tears she was determined she wouldn't cry. Not again, not over him. He was the one that deemed her only good enough to fill the role of mistress. The one who had failed to tell her that her secret dreams of children were in vain before he could break her heart. That his words of love and affection meant little to him. Her heart convulsed painfully, her stomach twisted and tightened in pain.  
Was he in love with this bride of his? Was she prettier than Eve? Sweeter? Nicer? With hands that were soft and primed to care for babies and not hard and scarred like her own. She was probably younger too, not burdened with the nightmares of a traumatic childhood, of tainted dreams. Eve betted she was warm and kind too, not cold and bitter.

She emptied her stomach in burning, retching heaves. But she wouldn't cry.  
"What's this we 'ave 'ere boys?" A voice broke her from her madness. "Appears this pretty lass 'as 'ad too much ta drink. Maybe we should 'elp 'er out?" His voice was rough and mocking.  
She looked up from the spilled contents of her stomach and noticed she'd somehow gotten herself lost in Hightown, far from the Viscounts Keep, alone at night.  
"What do you want?" She growled at them. There were seven, dressed in cheap armour all with equally cheap weapons. Three had shortswords, the rest equipped with daggers.  
"Ain't it obvious, pretty?" The apparent leader stepped forward, lank greasy black hair fell to his shoulders, his muddy brown eyes stared leeringly at her. "We wanna give ya a good time."  
Her skin crawled. "Fuck off." She told them, "fuck off right now and you might live."  
The group of men laughed lewdly at her.  
"Don't think so, Dove." Another one said, his face mostly hidden by a hood. "We're gonna cut that pretty dress off you and then we can get a good look at those ripe tits of yours." A knife glinted on her right. Her hands curled in to fists, ready for whatever they tried.  
"And then we're going to see what that dirty little mouth of yours can do!" The leader threatened. "Bet you know your way around a prick. Rich whores like you always do."  
"Why don't I show you what I can do with my hands first?" She grinned menacingly at him.  
"Oh, we got a eager one 'ere!" He laughed stepping forward, a dagger in one hand and unlacing his trousers with the other, but before he could present himself to Eve, she slammed a palm up in to his noise, a satisfying crunch echoing around the quiet street, followed by a painful yell, before she brought a leg up and kicked him between the legs. He screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor. He'd be lucky if he ever got a hard on again.  
The rest if them turned to her now, angry glares, hands on weapons.  
"We're gonna teach you a very painful lesson now, missy for what you just did to Flin there. A long and painful lesson and you'll be wishing all we did was fuck ya."  
"Good luck." She replied, and quickly she reached under her skirt and pulled two long daggers she kept in her boots.  
They were stupid, all of them, all rushing her at once. Their only experience having been defenceless victims and drunken bar brawls. It was almost too easy to dodge and parry the attacks, to sink her blades in to necks and bellies, sweeping legs from under them, letting the hard ground knock them incapacitated long enough to plunge a dagger between horrified eyes.  
Soon there was only one left. Flin. He had crawled a couple of feet away, one hand cradling between his legs, the other pulling him away from the chaos of blood spilled on Hightown stone.  
Eve strode over to him, ready to send him off the The Maker with his friends, when a figure dressed in black with a shock of white hair beat her to it, and lifted the whimpering bastard off the floor to dangle a foot in the air.  
"Please, Messere, help me! She's a monster! A monster!" He cried panicked. Eve couldn't help but bark out a laugh.  
"I believe you owe the woman an apology." Fenris's rich voice spoke low with threat.  
"But, I, she killed them!"  
"An apology and you might have mercy."  
Fenris threw the man at her feet, Flin looked up at her fearfully, his face bathed in blood from his broken nose. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Mercy, please! I beg forgiveness!" He cried tears streaming down his face.  
"You shall have none from me." She told him, kicking him over, a boot on his stomach, leaning over him as his eyes widened in realisation, one of her bloody daggers pressed unfaltering against his throat. "You had better hope the Maker is more forgiving." She pushed the blade through his neck, slicing through his spine, till the point scraped on stone. His eyes went wide, blood gurgled sickeningly from the wound and his mouth for a few moments before his eyes turned dull and his noises ceased.

"Stupid shits." She commented quietly, straightening out, wiping her bloody blades on the skirt of her dress. The thing was ruined, torn, ripped, covered in so much blood and tissue it was nearly black.  
She sheathed her knives again and then her eyes met Fenris's.  
"What are you doing here?" Her voice sounding more accusatory and angry than she meant it to be. But angry was good, angry meant she was wasn't upset over Alistair, or on the verge of pathetic tears.  
"I was on the rooftop when I saw this band of ingrates corner a women. I did not realise it was you until I got closer." He stepped towards her, surveying the carnage at her feet. "I thought you may need some... help."  
"I can look after myself."  
"Clearly." He looked her in the eyes, they were large and a startling green. She had never noticed just how green before.  
"I really should be getting back to the Hanged Man." She told him turning away, trying to get her bearings. What had Varric told her once? Go down enough stairs in Hightown and you'll end up in Lowtown?  
"You are hurt." Fenris stated unequivocally.  
"I'm fine." She looked down at herself. One of her sleeves had been ripped off and a long cut decorated her forearm seeping blood.  
Okay, maybe she was a little hurt, she was feeling a bit lightheaded, the adrenaline of the fight wearing off so she could feel the sluggish effects of bloodloss and alcohol on her body. "I just," she breathed heavily, "I just need to sit down for a bit and then I'll be alright." She moved towards a bench.  
"You should not stay here. No doubt the City Guards will be here shortly and they do not look kindly on bodies littering Hightown."  
"They shouldn't have fucked with me then. Idiots." She glared at the corpses.  
"No doubt." He sighed. "The estate I am staying in is just around the corner. You can clean up and rest before you go back to the Hanged Man."  
Eve mulled over the offer for a moment. "You don't have to." She told him.  
"Hawke would not forgive me if anything were to happen to you."  
"Fine." She grumbled. "Lead the way. I hope you don't mind bloodstains on the floor."  
"It will make no difference." He told her walking off. She huffed at him. Varric was right, he was broody. Even Nathianial couldn't compete with him. But at least he didn't try to coddle her with help. That was far worse than indifference and right now, with Alistair on her mind, any kindness would make her cold reserve crumble.

* * *

Authors note:

Next chapter, Fenris POV. Mmmm, Fenris...


	12. Chapter Twelve

Thank you to all those who are following this story. Hope you enjoy this Fenris chapter!  
OoW

Chapter 12

Fenris had been spending the evening on the roof of the mansion. A bottle of Agreggio Pavalli in hand. He liked to sit on the roof at night sometimes, to escape the confines of the estate when everything just reminded him of Danarius and pain and anger. And clear nights like tonight, the moon bright in a cloudless sky, he could almost forget the suffocating darkness and anger that ate at him, he could almost feel free.

The night was quiet, most nobles of Hightown were attending the Viscounts Ball. Including Hawke and that confusing woman of his, Eve, The Hero of Fereldan, The Warden-Commander. A legend brought to life, despite the fact she was pretending to be dead. She was... interesting, to say the least and frankly a woman who introduced herself by breaking the abominations nose already had Fenris' better opinion, only further enforced when he saw her smite the whinging freak. He may have even smiled at that, if Varric hadn't winked at him with that look on his face that meant 'material for his stories' and quickly wiped his face of any incriminating emotion.  
Of course he had also heard what that spirit had said to her, had seen her face when she thought no one was looking. Broken, it had read. He knew that look well, avoided mirrors because he couldn't bear to see it in his eyes, admit that it was true.  
They hadn't spoken much. She was like him. Content to sit on the sidelines of conversation. To listen, to watch. One eye on their companions. The other on an escape route. When she did speak, her voice; rich, sultry and hard, she was always to the point, sometimes harshly so. She didn't string out her words like Varric did, or even Hawke who was compelled to fill silences with often meaningless words. Even if he meant well. For a mage.  
She was most definitely unlike any other woman he had come across in his memory. He supposed that was only right for someone who had done so many unbelievable things and commanded so much respect.  
So, imagine his surprise when he saw the woman plaguing his thoughts in the street below him, looking wild eyed and retching.  
His brows drew together. Why was she here on her own? Had she had an argument with Hawke? The man had seemed rather interested in her, much to Isabela's chagrin. Though, in his limited experience of romance and the dance between men and women, he could tell Eve did not feel the same, even if Hawke led everyone else to believe the romance they once had was not over when Eve was not around.  
He watched as a group of men approached without her noticing. Fenris slipped quietly from the rooftop when he heard their lewd comments, their intentions towards her.  
She spoke back to them as if she wasn't in a thin, silken dress, and did not have her long sword with her.  
When one, the leader, moved to approach her, Fenris was ready to intervene, his lyrium markings ready to ignite and grant death to these fools.  
But then he saw her break the nose of the leader, winced as her foot came up hard in to the man's crotch. The rest of the attack happened so quickly his eyes could barely follow. The glint of silver in her hands, the spray of blood on her dress, chest, face. Her animalistic growls of fury as she plunged her knives in one and then another until there was nothing left at her feet except blood and death. It was... breathtaking.  
The fool with the broken nose was crawling towards him, and Fenris had him in his grasp quickly, his brands threatening to alight with anger. Eve approached them silently. Said nothing as Fenris demanded the man apologise. Though he knew it wouldn't save his life. She would kill him just as surely as Fenris would. And she did. If Isabela had been there the pirate would have called it 'sexy'. Fenris would not have disagreed with her.

She was not exactly pleased to see him. There was anger in her voice. He saw her dress no longer covered her as well as it once did. An expanse of pale flesh before him. He trailed a gaze along her arms, noticing not all the blood was that of her enemies. One of them had got a lucky strike at her and a long cut bled profusely from her left arm, blood trickling off her long fingers.  
He had invited her in so she wouldn't do something as foolish as walk back to the Hanged Man in her current state. She was stubborn though, until he pointed out Hawke wouldn't be pleased if something happened to her.  
Now here she was standing in the doorway of the only room he used of the estate. Was she feeling sorry for him? Appalled at the state of the place? Or did she just not know where to sit?  
Fenris stood in the middle of the room, "You can sit there." He pointed to one of the cushioned chairs at the table.  
She nodded and sat down. He could see her looking at the mess on the table, the floor, the disarray of blankets on the bed, the half dead fire in the grate. It would have been embarrassing if he cared how the place looked, but it meant nothing to him, merely somewhere to sleep and drink when he had nowhere else to be.  
"I'll get you some water so you can clean yourself somewhat." He told her and stalked off to the dilapidated kitchen which he only used now for the water pump.  
When he returned to Eve, she was still seated, but was making rough alterations to her dress with one of her daggers. Both sleeves were gone and the skirt hem now sat mid-thigh. Blood soaked strips of material had been dumped on the floor but she had saved whatever was not ruined and placed it on the table.  
He silently put the bowl of water next to her.  
"Thank you." She said quietly, only giving him the barest flicker of eye contact and using some of the relatively clean silk she had cut from her dress, soaked it in water to clean her injury.  
He could see the cut on her arm still bled. She gave no indication whether it pained her as she cleansed it. The bowl of water was quickly turning a cloudy pink colour.  
"Perhaps you would be better seeking the abom... um, your fellow Wardens help? It appears as though the wound is rather deep."  
"I'd rather not." She looked up at him as he stood across from her. Her eyes were as grey as steel. "Besides, no doubt you've seen my scars. I haven't always had the use of a healer."  
"Indeed." His eyes were drawn to the ragged mark along her jawline and the crisscross of scars on her arms and legs. When he finally looked at Eve he realised she was watching him and he was quick to avert his eyes. If she was bothered by his gaze she said nothing.  
"I'll just bandage it up here and if it doesn't stop bleeding I'll sew the wound." She told him. "I knew that stupid Ball was a bad idea." She grumbled under her breath.  
"Why did you leave?" Fenris asked, the question leaving his mouth before he could stop himself.  
Eve finished wrapping strips of her dress tightly around her arm and sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead. "Have you ever tried running from something to have it eventually creep up on you and remind you that you just haven't run far enough?" She asked.  
Fenris snorted. "Obviously Hawke isn't as much as a gossip as I was led to believe, else you would know how well I understand the concept of 'running'."  
"Garrett has told me nothing of importance about you or his other companions. But I do know you are from Tevinter and as you are an elf and not a mage that means only one thing: you were a slave."  
"Yes. And hunted still. Though Hawke has helped me evade capture once, but my master will not let me go easily, especially if he knows where I am." He sat down in the chair across from her. He felt anger burn in his veins as he spoke of Danarius.  
"Why does he hunt you?" She asked, but quickly countered herself. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to ask."  
"It is fine. I know somewhat more about you than you know about me. It is understandable you wish to know about those you surround yourself with, especially if Hawke wants you to accompany us on any of the jobs he picks up." He leant forward retrieving a bottle of unopened wine from the middle of the table. "Perhaps you would like a drink if we are to spend some time conversing?" He offered.  
"I don't want to impose..." She shifted awkwardly in her seat.  
"After this evening you could probably do with one." He told her. "I don't have any cups I am afraid."  
She gave Fenris a small smile. "That's fine. I'm not going to refuse a good drink for the sake of a cup." He passed the bottle to her and she took a large swallow. Full lips around the rim of the bottle, head tilted back slightly, eyes closed. He had never found anyone as attractive as he found Eve in that moment as he watched her. Short red hair like darkest blood, skin the colour of milk, sooty lashes that brushed her cheeks. Something stirred inside him, something that had laid dormant for so long he hadn't known it existed, something that made his heart stutter, his blood run hot, his mouth go dry. Desire flared to life within him, an animal forged of a hunger he didn't know he starved for, a need he never knew he required sating. It was unnerving to say the least. And pointless. She was not just a woman, not just flesh and bone and beauty. She had raised armies, led them, destroyed creatures from the Black City itself, an old God laid to waste by her hand. And what was he but a slave. A mutilated creature carved from hate and death. He had nothing and was worth nought but the skin on his bones. He crushed the flame of lust like a mote of dust in his fist. A pointless thing for a runaway slave for him to long for.  
"I didn't think I'd ever get a decent drink in this City." She said, breaking Fenris from his thoughts. Licking her lips of the drops of liquid that reddened them.  
"Agreggio Pavalli." He told her unable to break his gaze as her deft tongue ran across soft lips. "The cellar is full of it. My master, Danarius', favourite wine. He had me serve it at his parties. I enjoy decimating his collection."  
"Feel free to invite me to help." She smiled leaning forward to pass him the bottle.  
"I will bear that in mind." He couldn't help the smile that curved his own lips. "You asked why I was hunted?"  
"You don't have to tell me, Fenris." She assured him.  
He waved her off. "My master branded my flesh with the marks you see before you. He wishes to take back what is his, even if it means skinning me alive."  
Her watched her eyes trace the only lyrium brands not covered by his clothing. The tapered lines down his chin and neck. There was no revulsion, no pity he could see.  
"Why did he do it to you?"  
"He wished for a lyrium warrior."  
"It must have been painful." She spoke, her voice still and cautious.  
"Yes. They still hurt now. A constant reminder of the depravity of the Magisters."  
"Had you always been a slave?"  
"I... do not know. Any memories I had before these markings are lost to me. Danarius made sure I had no links to my past when he did this to me."  
"Bastard."  
"Precisely."  
"You have a lot of hate for mages don't you?"  
"How did you guess?" He asked a little too sarcastically. If she was offended he couldn't tell.  
"Yet you trust Garrett."  
"He has proven himself. For now. Mages are weak to their needs of power, to demons. You cannot just assume they won't be tempted by the desire of power and succumb to evil."  
She nodded, as if it were both truth and fact. Maybe she too knew the danger that mages possessed. At least she did not try to change his mind.

He handed her back the bottle, her fingers absent mindlessly brushed his own. A barely palpable tremor ran through him, but she did not notice.  
"You have known Hawke for a long time?" He asked.  
"I met him when I was about fifteen or so. I ended up in the village where he lived with his family." She seemed to be staring at the weave of wood grain on the table surface. "We grew close over a couple of years until I had to leave."  
"You appear to mean a lot to him." Fenris could not seem to stop words from flowing in this woman's company. Something about her seemed to put him at ease.  
"I think," she looked him in the eyes. "I think it may have meant more to him than it did to me." She finished quietly before taking another draught if wine.  
"I consider him my first... love I suppose, I cared for him a lot, I still do. He was kind to me and I hadn't seen much kindness in my life. And his family were just so... not what I expected of a family. Close and loving. I envied it. I wanted to be a part of it. But when I left, when I became a Warden, things happened during the Blight, and I realised what I had felt for him wasn't as strong as I had first thought." She looked up from the table. "Ugh, seriously. This is too sentimental for me!" She half laughed shaking her head. "I really must have lost a lot more blood than I realised."  
"Perhaps I should walk you back to the Hanged Man."  
"No, no. You've been far too accommodating already, Fenris. And it's late, you must be tired. I'll be fine." She stood, swaying a little from blood loss and wine.  
"And what will happen if another group of thugs run in to you whilst you are in this state?" He quietly growled. "Venhedis, woman. I shall walk you back."  
"I can look after myself." She scowled at him.  
"You are weak from a serious wound, are wearing next to nothing, and have to go through the crime ridden streets of Kirkwall. Without armour or your sword."  
"You're almost as bad as Garrett."  
"No. He forgets what you became after you were no longer a part of his life. I am quite aware of your capabilities. But Hero of Fereldan or not, you are still dressed in nothing but torn silk and do not have your sword..."  
She held up a hand to halt his argument. "Right. Okay. You've made your point. Let's just go then. I'm too tired to argue with you." She strode towards the doorway. "And please don't call me the Hero of Fereldan. I hate that name. As if I ended a Blight and killed an Archdemon by myself."  
Fenris followed her, picking up his sword from where it leant against the fireplace.  
"You do not like the reverence of being named hero?" He asked.  
"No. In fact I'm sure it was just a joke made in bad taste to call me such a thing."  
He did not know what to say in response. Most people he had come across revelled in being given titles for their deeds. Or gold. Hawke often charmed his way in to bigger payments after a completed job. Using his name to get people to tell him what he needed to know. It was strange to find a person who did not enjoy such a thing. Maybe that was why she was here, why she had falsified her demise. Fed up of the popularity she had.

He followed her closely through Hightown and Lowtown. The streets were quiet, there was not another soul around. Only twice did he see Eve look over her shoulder to see if he was still there, but she did not try to make conversation. They continued in silence. A comfortable understanding that idle chatter was not necessary. It was a welcome change from Hawke's incessant chattering, or Varric's prodding for stories, or Isabela's attempts at flirtation. It gave him peace to watch the warrior woman before him. Ponder the things she had shared. Wonder about the glimpse of woman he had seen behind the mask of a Hero and the romantic stories Hawke told of her.  
But peace was such a fragile thing, so easy to break, and when they entered the Hanged Man it disintegrated like a moth in a flame.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Musicalrain, your reviews make my day! Thank you ever so much for your kind words and taking the time to read this story.  
OoW

Chapter 13

She walked in looking like death, covered head to toe in blood and gore. Her beautiful dress nothing more than rags, her face a picture of shock when she saw Hawke surrounded by his friends, an air of panic around him.  
"What in the Void has happened?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "Why is everyone here?"  
"Are you taking the piss?" Hawke said, the frayed nerves, the worry, warping his voice to anger. "You turn up looking like that and ask me what's wrong? When we're all here, I'm here, because one moment you are at the Viscounts Ball and the next you're not!" His hands were balled in to fists, shaking with anger and relief she wasn't gone from Kirkwall.  
"You worry too much." She said her voice cold as if she wasn't dressed in bloodied silk.  
"She is fine." A deep voice spoke low from behind her, still in the doorway. Fenris. What was he doing here with her?  
"She doesn't look it." Hawke growled. "She looks pretty far from 'fine'." He told the elf staring hardly in to the mans eyes.  
"Uh, Hawke?" Varric broke the silence that had descended upon the main room of the tavern. "Why don't we move this up to my suite? We're drawing a crowd." He told him, a forced lightness to his voice.  
Hawke looked around to indeed see the usually rowdy bar had descended in to silence, with almost all eyes, save the unconscious drunks, watching him and Eve. In fact mostly Eve. At her very bare legs, and arms, and chest. Maker be damned, she was wearing almost as little as Isabela!  
"Fine." He told the elf and stepped up to Eve, grabbing her arm. "Come on. You are going to tell me what happened and why you ran out after being told the King of Fereldan is getting married." A touch of jealousy colouring his voice. He began to pull her to follow when the silence in the room thickened, turning from shocked hush, to a fearful stillness.  
"Shit. Bad move Hawke." He heard the dwarf breathe. He heard the shriek of chairs on wood as people quickly left the Hanged Man.  
Hawke looked round in to Eve's face. Yeah, shit indeed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She seethed at him. Her usually cool grey eyes smoking with anger. "Are you," she barked a hard laugh, "are you forcing me to talk to you about tonight like a fucking child?" She bared her teeth at him.  
"What? I?" Hawke stumbled over his words letting go of her arm.  
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Eve spat the word bitterly at him. He stepped back from her, but she just closed the distance. "I don't have to tell you anything!"  
"I was worried about you." He argued. "And you turn up looking like this! With him!" He pointed to Fenris.  
"What do you want to know Garrett?" Her tone mocking. "That inviting me to that stupid Ball was as bad an idea as I thought it would be? That I found out a man I spent the better part of a year with, in fucking love with, who dumped me for a throne, told me I was only good enough to fuck on the side as a mistress is going to marry some bloody noble borne girl he can father little blond haired heirs with instead of me and I lost it? That I ran in to some thugs I turned in to a bloody smear on Hightown stone? That Fenris turned up to help, though I didn't need it, and offered me the use of his mansion to clean up in?" She rattled off, her voice thick with fury and hurt.  
"You've been gone for hours." He tried to argue, but the anger had gone out of him.  
"I can look out for myself. I did it before you, I did after you, I'll do it now!"  
"Anything could have happened to you. I care about what happens to you." He told her, his voice trying to sound soothing.  
"You treat me like I was that girl back in Lothering!"  
"I want to look out for you! What's so wrong with that?"  
"I am not that fool of a girl anymore." She shouted at him.  
"You think I don't know that!" He shouted back.  
"No, I don't think you do, else you'd drop this foolish notion of..." He interrupted her with a kiss. A scorching, heated kiss that melted everything around him to nothing, until Eve pulled back, a blank stare that quickly ignited in to outrage and punched him in the jaw hard enough to cause him to sprawl ungracefully to the filthy floor.  
"Don't ever touch me like that again!" She screamed at him and stalked from the room. Shit! Shit! Shit! And shit his face hurt. Hawke was seeing stars.

"You are an idiot." He heard Anders say. "You saw how well it went when I tried that didn't you? I'm not sure if I should heal you."  
"That was so hot." Isabela breathed. "Not the ridiculously badly timed kiss, that was just stupid, but the shouting and her lack of clothes. Yeah, that was really sexy."  
"Guess I know now not all those stories about Eve and the King were completely untrue." Varric said, nowhere near amused.  
"I could have told you that." Anders spoke again. "But, well, she hates me enough at the moment to be talking about her behind her back. Ha! Guess Hawke and I are in the same club now!"  
"A little help here." Hawke practically whimpered, unable to stand, holding his face as if it would break apart.  
An armour clad spiky hand reached down for him. Hawke grabbed Fenris' outstretched hand and was pulled to standing. The world spinning round him, the taste if blood in his mouth, the smell of blood in his nose. He felt the warming tingle of Anders healing spread through him. Everything soon returning to normal.  
"Thanks." He mumbled somewhat shamed.  
Anders shrugged his feathered shoulders. "She packs quite a punch." Maker, that was an understatement. He thought the punch she gave him at the clinic was bad.  
Hawke sat down in the closest chair, head in his hands. He heard the sound of liquid being poured and peeked between his fingers to see Varric placing a cup of something decidedly not Corff's so called special blend in front of him.  
"Smooth moves like that, Hawke, deserve the finest Orzammer export that I have." He smiled at him.  
Hawke knocked back the drink in one go, burning his throat and chest, making him splutter with the strength and revulsion of it.  
"That is disgusting!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
"What were you thinking?" Varric asked ignoring the complaint. "Or rather, what weren't you thinking?"  
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Hawke mumbled.  
"What, between the screaming and the punching? You saw how she reacted when Anders kissed her when she first arrived!"  
"I just thought it might stop the shouting. Used to work before."  
"And therein lays the problem my tall but romantically illiterate friend. She's not that girl anymore."  
"I thought..."  
"... You could relive some simpler time when all you worried about were yourselves, not the fate of a City? Yeah, Hawke, I think we all got that part. We've all heard your stories of Eve and the younger beardless Hawke of Lothering. It's sweet, they're fond memories for you, I'm sure they are for her too, but shit Hawke, even I could have told you she is not the girl you tell us about. She hasn't been for a long time."  
"I know that now." He sighed heavily. "And now she hates me."  
"Oh sweet thing," Isabela purred sidling up to Hawke, a hand resting on his knee. "She's just angry, really angry. Women like her, and I, I might add, are passionate creatures, our blood runs hot. She'll calm down eventually."  
"And forgive me?" He hoped.  
"No. You'll have to grovel. A lot. Of course if it was me I'd chain you to my bed for a month to work off my anger," she winked at him, "but I'm pretty sure she won't want to do that. Maybe with Fenris," she grinned leeringly at the elf who sneered at her. Hawke couldn't help the fury that rose up in him that she'd spent time alone with Fenris at his mansion, half dressed. "But you, Kitten, yep, you'll have to put in quite a few hours of grovelling." She squeezed his knee reassuringly.  
"Dammit." He was such a stupid arse. Just because he'd held some ridiculous candle for her for the last seven years, just because he'd never moved on, not even slept with anyone else, didn't mean she felt the same way. Andraste's tits, he knew she'd messed around, both Anders and Eve herself had said so, but he so blindly wanted that girl in Lothering he hadn't realised she no longer existed.  
"I had better check that 'stain' in Hightown'." Aveline said breaking his thoughts, not sounding too pleased. "I knew something would happen with all the guards the Viscount argued he needed at the Keep. At least they were foolish enough to pick Eve and not anyone else." She made her way to the exit.  
"They were dealt with swiftly." Fenris spoke. Aveline nodded her farewell and left.  
"That sounds something close to awe, Broody?" Varric grinned.  
"Eve was... adept at killing those that threatened her virtue and life." He replied, though Hawke did not miss the way he glanced awkwardly at the floor and how his ears burned red for just a moment.  
"Should we check she's alright?" Merrill asked, her face etched in concern as she looked towards the stairway. "She looked awfully bloody and angry."  
"She needs to calm down and be left alone." Anders told her. "Once, at the Keep, she'd been pissed off something awful, I forget why, might have been a letter or five she received. Well, Nathanial went to check on her and ended up with a black eye. Apparently she threw a book at his head, told him to fuck off before the next thing she threw was sharper! So we let her be for a while and then she was fine. Kind of. She always seemed a boiling pot of anger most of the time."  
"Berserker." Varric stated, everyone turned to him. "It's a dwarven thing." He shrugged at the questioning looks. "Hey, just because I'm a surfacer doesn't mean I don't know anything about those still dumb enough to live knee deep in nugshit and darkspawn taint. Anyway, the dwarves that train as berserkers are nuts, the slightest provocation turns them in to this raging weapon of anger. It's bloody effective, scary, powerful, but effective."  
"Wait a minute, Oghren, a dwarf that travelled with Eve during the Blight and chose, if you can believe it, to become a Warden, wasn't that bad when he wasn't fighting." Anders said  
"Bet he had a drinking problem though didn't he? The only way they can dampen it out."  
"Yeah, he did, though not so much after he became a Grey Warden, but he did have a wife and child Eve forced him to stop drinking so much for,"  
"And there my friends is the universal balm to anger and hate - love!" Varric exclaimed dramatically.  
"A good lay is just as good!" Isabela argued, "Maybe Fenris should just shag the anger out of her!"  
"Venhadis." The elf cursed in reply.  
"I think we better just leave her alone. It's been a long night." Hawke told everyone getting up. "I'll come and grovel my replies in the morning. If she hasn't left." He grumbled.  
"I'll keep an eye on her, Hawke." Varric told him sincerely.  
He nodded his thanks and left. He didn't want to listen to stories of this angry woman he no longer recognised. It just reinforced what a blind fool he'd been to think he could have the Eve he knew back. She really did no longer exist. Just like everything and everyone else he cared about, she was as good as dead.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

Eve stayed in her room for several days, only creeping out in the early morning of the first day when she knew Isabela and Varric would be asleep, to ask Corff to ready a bath so she could wash the blood from her body and hair and to have food and drink delivered to her room so she wouldn't starve. She burnt her dress in the fireplace watching the once beautiful creation crisp to nothing in the flames.

Her injured arm required the wound to be sewn. She did it herself, it wasn't neat, hurt like a bitch, but it was healing.  
Her anger and shame on the other hand was not so easily resolved. Alcohol didn't touch it. The cramped space of her room only exacerbated it.  
Alistair's impending wedding. Garrett's treatment of her. Anger, blood loss and wine loosening her tongue to spill her heart in front of people that were not much better than strangers.  
The only good thing about that night had been killing those thugs. And Fenris. He had been something of a surprise. The elf had never said a word to her before, never even looked at her. She didn't even think he registered her as a person, but he had been there that night to help, however unnecessary that it was, offered her his mansion, his wine, revealing more of himself than she ever thought the quiet man ever would in that impossibly luscious voice of his. Had he seen how he shivered when he spoke? Especially when enriched by anger. Maker, she hoped not. He offered her help, not because he thought she couldn't do without it, but because she needed it and somehow knew would never admit to such a thing. And those markings, forged by such horror, the white of the lyrium against his golden toned skin, she couldn't help how her tongue trembled with the desire to lick them. Fuck she was messed up. Fuck how she just needed to, well, fuck. Maybe that would help the rage and frustration that roared under her skin painfully. That or killing something usually abated it.

So on the fourth day of being in her room - not hiding, she didn't hide - she crept from her lodgings as the sun was rising like an orange dragon unfurling its wings on the horizon, and made her way to the Wounded Coast.  
She wore her armour and her sword, she wouldn't get caught without them again. There was no particular place she had in mind to go, no route she knew of, no point of interest she had heard about, she just needed to feel the sky above her. To feel like she was living the freedom she had sought when she had decided to run from the Wardens.

She ran in to a few groups of troublemakers, they were quickly dispatched, bodies lightened of worldly goods they no longer needed.  
She spent two nights camping on a secluded beach since the nights were warm and skies were clear.  
The fighting and the freedom were somewhat soothing, the binds of anger loosened.  
It gave her time to think clearly, which she hadn't done for an age. She had spent such a long time pretending that if she didn't think about Alistair it wouldn't hurt, it didn't matter. But Maker be damned it did.  
She remembered the rose he had given her, the first and only flower she'd ever been given by anyone. She didn't even tease him about it, was even speechless for a few moments. She'd kept the thing when it had dried up, it's petals as delicate as ash, in a velvet bag she'd found in a pile of dust when looting some skeletal corpses. But she didn't have it now, in her heartbreak, after a night of wasted tears, she'd silently passed Alistair as they had left Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim, and shoved the thing in to his hands, not even looking back to see his reaction. He'd probably just thrown it away there and then, but it felt good at the time to pretend it no longer meant anything to her.  
She recalled how slowly their relationship had progressed. It was a pace that she wasn't used to, but he was nervous about being with her, the majority of his life spent under Chantry influence was hard to break from. When he finally asked her to join him one night, Eve had held off asking him for fear of looking too eager, she had never been happier. It may not have been the most mind blowing night of her life, he was inexperienced of course, but it was the first time she had laid with someone who she truly loved. Even Garrett, who she cared for, she had slept with out of fear he would find her boring and leave her if she did not. He had given her protection, shelter, food, and she gave him intimacy. But with Alistair it had been nothing short of beautiful. She had lain there afterwards, wrapped up in his strong muscular arms, her head on his chest listening to the soothing beat of his heart, as he twirled her once long hair through his fingers, and he had said how much he loved her, that wherever she went he would be by her side, for always. She had kissed him, told him the same with relief in her heart. When he slept she thought of the children they might have. Foolish, pointless thoughts she now knew, not just because he no longer cared for her, but because he had failed to tell her until after the Landsmeet that Grey Wardens didn't have children, couldn't necessarily have children, particularly the women, and especially between two Grey Wardens. The taint corrupting their ability to create and nurture life. Eve had dreamt of children even before Alistair, of bestowing the love she was denied as a child on to someone she created with a man she adored. But it would never be.  
She had wiped her stinging eyes as she lay on the cool beach on the Wounded Coast thinking of the babies she wouldn't bear. She'd probably would have made a terrible mother anyway. Born to a mage girl of 15 her father had raped and eventually impregnated, she had been sent away, to Kirkwall strangely enough, just to die in childbirth. Then Eve was taken by the man who only wanted her because he couldn't have her mother. Luckily the abuse she had suffered had been in the form of violence and he had died when she was twelve, else who knew how that would have changed when she became the same age her mother had been when he began raping her. The thought made her sick. Her heritage was nothing but magic and blood. She had nothing to pass to a child anyway except anger and death. Foolish dreams indeed.

She was returning to Kirkwall, after running in to a group of mercenaries who apparently thought they could get her sword, the last one falling to her feet, when she heard the dulcet tones of Garrett.  
"Eve?" She looked up to see him appearing over a ridge, Fenris, Isabela and Varric in tow.  
"Oh. Hello Garrett." She said, wiping a splatter of blood she felt dripping down her brow. She looked passed him to the others. "Everyone." She greeted with a nod.  
"What are you doing here?" Garrett asked, he had stopped several feet away from her, he looked nervous.  
"Killing idiots." She smiled slightly.  
"Oooh, snap, that's why we're here too!" Isabela grinned.  
Garrett ignored the pirate "I thought you had left Kirkwall. No one has seen you for days, not since..."  
"Since everything went a bit tits up and I punched you in the face?"  
"Err yeah." He refused to look at her.  
"I needed time to think. To get away." She told him.  
"I tried to speak to you. I wanted to say I'm sorry."  
"I know. Look, we need to talk, but not here. Will you be at your estate tonight? About eight?"  
"Yes." He replied somewhat nervously.  
"Okay, good. I'll be round then." She walked towards him. "I'm sorry for punching you. Again." She told him.  
"No you're not." He smiled. "I was a complete arse. I deserved it."  
"I am a little sorry I did it that hard though. And yes, you were an arse." She smiled in return. "I'll see you later."  
"Good to see you out of that hole, Deadly!" Varric grinned up at her as she walked by. "Hawke thought you'd buggered off, but I knew you'd stick around, if only because you'd miss my glorious chest hair!"  
"It would be my biggest regret." She told him with mock seriousness. Varric chuckled as he went to follow Garrett and the others.  
"Eve," that rich voice. She looked back over her shoulder to see that Fenris stood watching her as the others disappeared round the bend of dirt track.  
"Fenris?"  
"I am glad that you didn't leave Kirkwall." He told her, his green eyes looking straight in to her grey ones.  
"I... Um, thank you, Fenris." She replied, momentarily stunned by his words. He nodded once before turning around and quickly catching up with Garrett, Varric and Isabela. And yes, her eyes may have wandered along his departing form. Nothing wrong with that all, he was extremely pleasing to the eye after all.

She wouldn't walk through Hightown at night without at least light armour and weapons now, aware that the guards Aveline had her work cut out with were no deterrent for the criminals lying in wait. At least no one bothered her tonight and the streets were still relatively busy.  
Garrett's estate wasn't the largest in Hightown by far, but it looked out on the main square just across from the Chantry, the bedroom windows all had great views over Kirkwall, as long as you didn't mind the chains, or statues of slaves.  
She knocked on the door, Bodahn answered within a few seconds. It was always nice to see him, he was always positive, even when things were bleak, and Sandal of course was a beam of smiling sunshine, which reminded her to see if he'd enchant her daggers later with some new runes she'd found.  
After the usual pleasantries, Bodahn knew she wasn't big on idle chatter, he told her to go ahead in to the library where Garrett was waiting for her and he'd bring some refreshments along shortly.  
Garrett was sitting at the writing desk opposite the grand fireplace, the table almost spilling over with papers.  
"You're popular." Eve said by way of announcing herself. Garrett practically jumped out of his skin, knocking a pot of ink to the floor.  
"Markers arse, Eve!" He tried to compose himself, "you scared me to death!"  
"I can tell." She grinned, taking a seat by the fire.  
"How can you walk so quietly with all that armour on? Aveline wears lighter armour than you and you can hear her a mile off."  
Eve shrugged. "Just a talent I guess. Though when you spend most of a year traipsing around numerous ruins trying to avoid making a noise so you don't get cornered by a bunch of walking corpses, I suppose you just learn to be quiet."  
"Maybe you could teach Aveline then, she's always the first one to alert giant spiders or drakes of our whereabouts." He said wryly.  
"It's on my to-do list." She smiled.  
Garrett finished tidying up his pile of papers and took a seat beside her, looking Eve straight in the eye, nervously pushing a hand through his ragged hair. "I'm so sorry for what happened that night. I was so stupid..." He trailed off shaking his head in remorse.  
"You were." She agreed, no point pretending otherwise. "But I got angry, it happens a lot lately. I shouldn't have punched you like I did."  
"And I shouldn't have grabbed you. Or kissed you." He said sadly.  
"No. Neither thing was one of your smarter ideas."  
"I don't know what came over me. When I couldn't find you at the Ball, and bloody Seneshal Bran was all 'oh dear, I think I may have upset your compatriot with my talk of your Fereldan King getting married'..." Eve couldn't help but snigger at Garretts poor attempt to impersonate the snooty Seneschal. "and then I couldn't find you anywhere, I thought maybe the news of, you know, had you leaving Kirkwall back for Fereldan. Or you'd done something stupid,"  
"Like run in to a bunch of thugs who wanted to 'have some fun' just to murder them brutally?" She finished for him.  
"Yeah, or that. I thought the worst, running to everyone to see if you were there. I forget how capable you are, not that you weren't back in Lothering, but you were so different then, you let me look after you, you don't need that anymore. I miss it. I miss being that person to you."  
"Things change." She told him simply. "And I'm sorry but they won't, they can't go back to how it was. I treasured that time in Lothering, I did, but I care for you as a friend."  
Garrett's body visibly deflated. "I thought so." He sounded so miserable.  
"Oh, Garrett." She sighed, both annoyed that he had put so much hope in rekindling something she didn't feel, and a little sad he was now unhappy. "You want something tinted by memories of a happier time when your family was whole and things were easier."  
"I guess you're right," he mumbled. "You always were right. At least that hasn't changed, plus you are a pain in the backside," he smiled at her.  
"Exactly. And I'm not going anywhere for the time being. You can still rely on me for any help you want, you're just better off relying on Isabela to warm your bed than me!"  
Garrett's face burned a little red at the mention of Isabela. "Well she hasn't hidden how much she would like to 'warm my bed' as you put it," he admitted. "But she's warmed most of Kirkwall's beds by the sounds of it."  
"I'm not telling you to marry her, just have some fun, Maker you deserve some!" She told him.  
"Okay, I'll have some fun, not necessarily with Isabela, but I will." He grinned at her.

Bodahn shortly came in with wine and a platter of cheeses and meats which Eve and Garrett enjoyed over some good conversation and some card games. It was good to just talk about the present, forget everything else, laugh a little. The tension that had been there between them dispersing until it was barely noticeable. And most importantly, no violence was involved at all. Eve hoped it was the beginning of the start she was looking for, despite being a lot less lonely than she first envisioned it to be when her journey from Amaranthine began. Things were looking up for once.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

What's that on the horizon... ah yes, I see it now, some Fenris/Eve action maybe?  
This chapter is pretty long, I was of a mind to split it, but have kept it as one piece as it is all Fenris POV.

Chapter 15

"You spend more time here than at home." Eve told Hawke peering over a hand of cards as the mage in question grumbled over his.  
"That's because I'm here, Kitten." Isabela purred, pushing several silver in to the middle of the table. "I raise twenty."  
"Ugh, I'm out." Hawke slammed his cards down and turned to the pirate. "And I might be here for the ale you know." He said derisively.  
Fenris rolled his eyes at the mans attempts to conceal his interest in the wench. Ever since the evening he'd spent in Eve's company, Hawke had been constantly staring at Isabela, tripping over his own feet on occasion because he was so preoccupied with her.  
"I saw that, Broody." Varric grinned at him, the dwarf didn't miss a trick.  
"You saw nothing." Fenris told him and returned to his cards. It was a terrible hand, as usual. Varric and Isabela always had the better cards, cheats that they were.  
"You in or out, Deadly?" Varric turned to Eve, who Fenris couldn't help but notice was looking rather... pleasing to the eye.  
"In." She replied tersely, pushing her silver to join with the ever increasing pile in the centre of Varric's table. She was wearing skintight leather trousers and a white shirt that was open quite low revealing a mouth watering amount of cleavage.  
"You're staring, sweet thing." Isabela breathed in to his ear, snapping him back to reality.  
"I do not know what you are talking about." He growled in reply, fighting the heat that was burning the tips of his ears.  
"I can't blame you." She continued, ignoring his denial. "I bet she's a tiger between the sheets, wouldn't mind having those long legs wrapped around me. And such a wicked tongue, bet it could such delicious things to your..."  
"Isabela!" Eve interrupted rather loudly, glancing at both Fenris and Isabela with raised eyebrows. "Stop looking at Fenris's cards."  
Isabela burst out laughing and Fenris quickly turned his head to look at the pirate. "Fasta Vass! Damn you woman." He placed his cards on the table. "I refuse to participate further."  
"Not like you would have won anyway, Broody." Varric commented. "And what did Isabela whisper to you to make your ears burn, hmmm?" He winked at the elf.  
This was ridiculous. Thank goodness Eve hadn't heard what the pirate had been saying, unless she had and interrupted before Isabela could say anything even more lewd than she had done. He glanced at the Warden-Commander who was holding her cards in one hand and tapping long nails irritably on the table top with the other. She wasn't blushing, not that he thought she blushed, it didn't really seem like something Eve would do, nor was she acting like she was angry at anything she may have heard, staring coldly at her cards, either she had a good hand and was anxious for the game to continue, or had a terrible batch of cards and was annoyed at them.  
"I'm in." Varric announced. "Let's see your cards ladies, and Anders, though the dress confuses me sometimes."  
"Oh ha ha, dwarf." Anders replied. "Like I haven't heard that before."  
Everyone showed their hands at the same time.  
"Shit." Isabela and Varric said in unison as the abomination just groaned.  
"How did you win again?" Isabela wailed.  
"Just because you have to cheat to win doesn't mean I do." Eve smiled collecting her winnings.  
"You never used to play that well when I met you in Denerim."  
"Grey Wardens have a lot of spare time in between all the darkspawn slaying to practice."  
"Seems to me that time could be better spent with hands full of something a lot more satisfying than cards." Isabela winked at Eve.  
"Does everything have to revolve around sex with you, wench." Aveline interrupted.  
"Yessss." She drawled, "It's fun, you might want to try it sometime, air out the closet you know? Bet you creak something awful."  
"Ahem, before you two end up throwing insults, who wants a drink? Next rounds on me." Eve announced.  
Everyone decided to take her up on the offer.  
"I shall assist you." Fenris offered as she left the table. He couldn't afford to lose another card game and no one else else had offered to help her bring up nine separate drinks.

He walked behind her, noticing there was more length to her hair since she had arrived several weeks ago, it was starting to brush her shoulders instead of her jawline. He often caught her pushing wayward strands behind her ears.  
They stood at the bar side by side waiting for Corff to bring a new barrel up from the cellar. They weren't touching, but Fenris could feel the heat from her body through his armour, smell the aroma of flowers from her skin. A welcome perfume from the Hanged Mans usually odorous stink.  
"Thank you for helping me with the drinks." She said suddenly, tilting her head to look at him.  
"It is no problem." Fenris replied.  
"What did you want? The others are all happy with a pint of the piss they call ale here, though I'll get Merrill some mead as she likes that. But since you have a more refined palate I assume you want something a little better?" She smiled at him.  
"It's fine. You do not have to purchase anything special for me."  
Corff returned and was given an order of drinks, though Fenris noted it was two beverages short.  
"... and I believe I saw a bottle of decent wine under the bar?" She told the greasy haired bar owner.  
He reached down plucking a dark and dusty bottle from the back of the shelf.  
"This?" He asked mystified.  
"The very same. How much?"  
"Two sovereign."  
"Corff." Eve spoke calmly, leaning forward on the bar on her elbows. "You and I both know you haven't a clue how much that costs."  
"One and fifty." He countered.  
She shook her head. "You also know how I am never late for payments on that room I rent from you and that I pay well over the odds on that crap you call food," she leaned closer to him, "So why don't I just hand you the money for all those drinks I just bought, and fifty silver for that bottle of, whatever it is, and we can go on enjoying our evenings."  
Corff looked at her for a moment, his eyes sweeping to Fenris, and sighed.  
"Fine, Serah. Fine. Don't ever say I'm not a fair man."  
"Of course not." She smiled, putting her coins on the counter-top and snatching the bottle of wine and handing it to Fenris along with a tray of drinks.

He looked at the dusty bottle in his hand. Orlesian, a good vintage too, very good.  
"I think this was worth a few gold more than what you paid for it." He said quietly out of Corff's earshot. "A lot more."  
"I know." She replied nonchalantly. "I saw it a few days ago when I was helping myself and Isabela to some spiced rum he hides in the corner. It's worth at least eight sovereigns. I had a bottle or two at the Keep that I hid away from the other wardens. It's really good."  
"You're quite... persuasive." He told her with a small smile. "And sneaky."  
"Yes. I'm contemptible really." She smiled in return. "Anyway, thought we could both enjoy that, hope you don't mind sharing a bottle again, seems a bit of an uncivilised way to treat such a vintage, but I doubt it cares!"  
"I do not mind." He replied, remembering the bottle of wine they shared a few weeks ago in his mansion. Watching her full lips and closed eyes as she drunk, her tongue licking up the remnants on her lips. He swallowed hard. No, he didn't mind at all.  
They entered Varric's suite arms loaded with alcohol which everyone was quick to grab up.  
"How come you've got wine?" Anders moaned at Eve.  
"Because you said you don't drink and you never had any taste for good alcohol anyway." She told him.  
"And he does?" He huffed.  
"Yes. He does." Eve passed the bottle to Fenris and took the seat beside him that Isabela had vacated. Though he never realised the pirate had sat that close to him.  
"Oh, Eve?" Hawke spoke, Fenris turned to see the man with a lap full of Isabela. "You know Qunari don't you?"  
"Not all of them."  
"No, obviously," he slurred slightly, grinning like a fool, Isabela's hands under his clothes. "But you freed that one from Lothering, the one went on a murdering rampage didn't you? Stan or Stein or something?"  
"Sten. It was his rank, they don't have names. He accompanied me during the Blight, wanted redemption for his crime then returned to Par Vollen. Why?"  
"The Arishok wants to meet with me. I thought maybe you could come along. Fenris, you too since you have an understanding of them."  
"As you wish." Fenris replied, passing the bottle to Eve.  
"How do you know the Qunari?" Eve turned to him, her right knee absently brushing his left as he sat cross-legged at the table, the touch making sending a pleasant shiver through him.  
"I spent some time with the Fog Warriors of Seheron when I first escaped Danarius." He told her, the memory a bitter taste on his tongue.  
"They taught me some of the Qun. I enjoyed my time in their company."  
"I used to talk to Sten quite often." She reminisced, "Though he wasn't big on talking. He spoke of how everyone had their role within the Qun that they were born in to, accepted it, lived it. Purposeful. Sometimes I envy that kind of existence, to be so sure of your place, to know why you're here and what you do."  
"I hear they're recruiting if you're interested, Deadly!" Varric told her jovially as he dealt out cards to Anders, Aveline and Merrill.  
"Hmm, considering Sten could never get his head around the idea of a woman being a soldier, and told me that with my fighting prowess I'd probably be chosen to breed from if I joined, I think I'll decline."  
"Not in to Ox-men, Kitten?" Isabela winked at her.  
"More like the Grey Warden thing puts a dampener on the whole reproduction skillset." Anders commented.  
"You are not allowed children?" Fenris asked, slightly confused, for Eve no longer was a part of the Wardens and therefore was free of their rules surely?  
"Um no." She shuffled uncomfortably. "Being a Grey Warden means it's almost impossible to have children. Particularly if you're a woman." Suddenly her hands had appeared to be quite interesting and she refused to meet the gazes from the rest of the table.  
"Like that's a bad thing!" Chuckled Isabela. "First they make you swell up and uncomfortable, then you have to go through the agony of birthing them only to then put up with their noisy, dirty, smelly interruptions!"  
"Yeah." Eve replied quietly a false smile gracing her lips. Fenris noticed the sadness in her eyes. She obviously didn't feel the same way about them as Isabela did.  
"So it's true the Wardens are tainted then?" Varric asked cautiously.  
"You know, when I was conscripted I was told all about Warden secrets and how they couldn't be shared with me until I was a Warden, only to find out that most of Thedas knew more about their secrets than I did during the Blight." Eve said crossing her arms.  
"And Blondie has a loose tongue." The dwarf interjected.  
"Hey! I don't! But it's not like I'm held to oath over secrets. Although I am bitter about the Calling thing."  
"Anders, shut up." She told him seriously.  
"Calling? I've heard of that. The Wardens go down to the Deep Roads for a final fight to the death when they're old or something. Like the bloody Legion of the Dead."  
"Ha! More like once you've been a Warden for going on twenty years or so you start going mad and you have to go die in the Deep Roads or turn in to a ghoul. Except for those who joined during the Blight," He looked at Eve. Everyone knew she had become a Warden during a Blight. "We found out its generally a lot shorter for them. Usually ten years or so."  
"That is..." Varric started to say. "Shit, Blondie. Deadly. That's really depressing."  
"You know they should put it in the recruitment brochures, I might have taken my chances with the Templars." Anders grumbled.  
Eve shrugged. "I was conscripted from the dungeon in Fort Drakon. It wasn't exactly a pleasant stay. If I wasn't a Warden I'd be dead already."  
She took a long pull of wine and handed the bottle back to Fenris. "It is what it is. I've got no one to really miss me when I go, especially considering I'm dead already."  
"I'm pretty sure you would be missed if you died, Deadly." Varric insisted.  
She got up from the table ignoring him. "I'm going to call it a night. I'll see you by the compound tomorrow morning, Garrett?"  
"Um, yes. Around ten." He replied somewhat confused. Maybe he'd missed most of the conversation through drink and Isabela's wandering hands.  
"Goodnight all." She nodded to everyone and left.  
"We'll that was fucking depressing." Varric commented, "Trust Blondie to turn the conversation to death. At least it wasn't involving your mage rights obsession for a change."  
"You asked about the bloody taint." The abomination replied. "It's not exactly sunshine and rainbows."  
"And she willingly conscripted and recruited people in to her ranks with such a death sentence?" Aveline asked with disdain.  
"She did what she had to do. And she did save my life,"  
"An action she no doubt regrets." Fenris told him shortly. Anders answered with a glare of pulsating blue.  
"Without Wardens the Blight would have continued unchecked, not to mention all the other crazy shit I saw in Amaranthine that would have gone on. She was keeping Fereldan safe.  
"I don't know why she felt she had to leave, something bad must have happened. She was loyal to the Grey, almost to a fault. It was all she really had I suppose after the Blight was ended. She was a good leader, a little, um, harsh and cold, but she got things done. Grey Wardens do things by 'whatever means necessary' she told me once, and it's true."  
"But being tainted, denied children and a death sentence? That's not exactly a recipe for happiness." Varric mused.  
"Most people live with those chains, dwarf." Fenris told him sternly, his eyes on the door Eve had closed behind her. It was sad that she had been given such a death sentence, but all of them were people who lived death and violence everyday, any day could be their last. Eve had lived under the constrictions Fenris had, had for a lifetime as a slave, people like him murdered for blood or on a whim. Denied love, marriage, children, to make their own choices. It was not a new concept to him.

"You lot are seriously denting my good mood." Isabela suddenly announced, "So Hawke and I are going to be leaving you depressing lot for more... pleasurable pursuits." She purred, pulling Hawke to standing. He wobbled a fair amount. The man could not hold his drink.  
"Don't take advantage of him, whore." Aveline told her.  
"Oh, please doooo..." Hawke slurred.  
"See, a willing participant!" Isabela grinned, holding him up. "Besides the walk to his estate will sober him up, and then we can have some delicious fun." Hawke nodded a little too enthusiastically. At least he was over his misplaced lust for Eve, Fenris thought.  
"Goodnight sweeties!" Isabela called pulling the door open, Hawke's arm draped over her shoulders.  
"I better be leaving too." Merrill said, "Though I hope I don't get lost." She mused.  
"I'll walk you home." The Guard-Captain told her.  
"Oh thank you, Aveline. You are so lovely. I don't care what Isabela says about you, I don't think you need stabbing with a fleshy sword, that sounds pretty painful, and mean, but I don't think she really means it."  
Aveline's face burned almost the same shade as her hair at Merrill's ramblings. "Come on." She told the foolish blood mage, pulling her along.  
"I'll come too." Anders said, "Darktown is usually quiet enough this time of night that I can avoid trouble. Goodnight Varric." He made a point of ignoring Fenris, as if he cared whether the abomination spoke to him or not. Fool.  
"Take care." Varric called tidying up his cards and finishing the last dregs of his cup. He turned to Fenris. "Not that I don't enjoy your... stimulating company, Broody, but I'd really like to get some sleep."  
"Of course." He rose from his chair.  
"Maybe you should check on Deadly." He suggested casually. "I won't say anything about it if you don't."  
Fenris scowled at the dwarf. Why would he suggest such a thing? Eve wouldn't want his company, surely? She was probably asleep.  
"She won't be asleep, she doesn't really sleep that much. Nightmares apparently."  
Fenris looked at him questionably.  
"She told me alright, before you suspect more licentious reasons for that knowledge. I'm a one woman man, Broody, namely Bianca." Varric defended.  
"Goodnight dwarf." Fenris dismissed himself.  
"Elf."  
Trouble was now Varric had mentioned the idea of checking on Eve, he couldn't make his feet move in the direction towards leaving the inn. No, he was stuck firmly in front of Varric's closed door staring at the room just down the landing. Foolish notion. Why would she want to see him? What would he even say?  
He noticed he still held the bottle of wine in his hand, only a quarter of its contents drunk. Eve had looked rather defeated after bidding everyone goodnight, especially when she had seemed in a much lighter mood before talk of Grey Wardens and taint. Maybe she would like the remainder of wine, she had bought it after all.  
Yes, he'd give her the wine, bid her goodnight and then go home.  
He stood in front of the door for a moment and heard nothing. He knocked tentatively, in case she was asleep.  
"What?" A roughened voice called from inside.  
"It is Fenris." He replied, wondering if this was a good idea. Varric was probably peeking from his doorway waiting for Eve to open it and punch him in the face for disturbing her sleep so he could laugh he short and hairy backside off.  
"Shit." He heard her mumble. "Wait a second."  
Yes, this was a truly stupid idea and Fenris was ready to leave when the door opened a crack and he met a pair of grey eyes.  
"What's wrong?" She asked, the door open enough to see she was wearing nothing but a short robe revealing naked legs and feet.  
"Nothing." Apparently his vocabulary was failing him at such a sight. Ridiculous. He'd seen her bare legs before, though they were covered in blood, and knee high boots.  
"Nothing?" She sounded annoyed and unconvinced.  
He thrust the wine towards her. "Here." So eloquent he was in the company of beauty.  
She looked at the bottle confused. "Oh. Don't be silly, you can have it. A thanks for the other week." She told him.  
"I cannot."  
"I insist." She folded her arms across her chest, her robe gaped seductively revealing the tops of her breasts. Fenris felt like he was going to combust with the heat of lust that coursed through him.  
"No." He managed to choke out.  
"You are so stubborn. Fine." She grabbed the bottle from him, Fenris breathed a sigh if relief that he could soon depart. "But you're going to drink it with me. Now." She threw the door open to her room and walked off, assuming he'd follow.  
No. No. No. This was a bad idea. Yet somehow he found himself following her and closing the door. This was some trick surely? Eve and Varric had thought it up. Why though, Fenris didn't know, but beautiful warrior women didn't just ask him in to their rooms, where they slept, wearing barely anything, without there being a catch.  
But she simply took a seat on the bed, her legs crossed elegantly in front of her, and tipped the wine to her mouth.  
"So, what's this about really?" She narrowed her eyes at him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Did Isabela tell you to come here?"  
"Of course not. Besides, she left with Hawke not long after you did." Why she thought such a thing was beyond him. As if he would take advice from that woman. Though he had taken advice from the dwarf. That wasn't much better.  
"So you're here because...?"  
"You seemed out of sorts after talking about the Wardens."  
"I'm fine." She insisted, looking away.  
"It seems as though being a Grey Warden takes much sacrifice." He continued.  
"You sacrifice nothing if you aren't given a choice." She sighed. "Can you please sit down if you're staying. It is rather distracting having you stand there like that."  
"Like what?"  
"All... Just..." She waved her hand as if it were an explanation. "You're just distracting." She huffed.  
He couldn't help but smile. He had been described as many things, distracting had not been one of them. He took the only seat available, next to her on the bed. If she described him as distracting, Eve was positively maddening.  
"So, Hawke and Isabela huh?" She asked with a small grin.  
"Jealous?" The thought she might be angered him.  
She started to choke on the wine she was swallowing. "Oh Maker, No!" She spluttered. "Glad that he's not focused on me more like. Though he seemed rather on the drunk side, doubt she'll get much use out of him!"  
"Hawke seems unable to hold his alcohol."  
"He's a complete lightweight." Eve confirmed. "And he'll be completely hungover tomorrow. Which will be fun." She added sarcastically.  
They sat in silence for a while, sharing the bottle of wine.  
"How long have you been running from Danarius?" Eve suddenly asked.  
"It was three years when I met Hawke, so more than four now."  
"Has he ever found you?"  
"His hirelings have come close, but I have killed those that tried to take me back. He always finds a way of tracking me down, maybe it is the markings."  
"He could have a phylactory of your blood. That's what the Templars use to track escaped mages."  
"That certainly sounds plausible." He agreed. "But since being around Hawke I have been as safe as I've ever been. Perhaps he is wary to try anything whilst I have such skilled company."  
"How long were you a slave for? What you can remember anyway."  
"Eight long years. I kept count. Time is the only constant in that kind of life. Counting minutes, hours, days, weeks was the only thing I could do to stay sane sometimes."  
"I know the feeling. I did the same as a child."  
"You did not have a happy childhood?"  
"Don't pretend you didn't hear Justice's rant when I confronted him and Anders." She looked at him with pursed lips. "No. Happy is not a word I'd describe my childhood as."  
"Your father was a Templar."  
"Yes, a lyrium addicted, mage raping, Templar."  
"Where was your mother?"  
"Dead. She was the mage he raped. She died bringing me in to the world, she was barely out of childhood when she had me. My father insisted I belonged to him and no one argued with it. We lived in a small village not far from the Fereldan Circle of Magi. He was not a good man, he obsessed over my mother. It was worse when he had no lyrium. I hid from him when I could."  
"You did not try and escape?"  
"It was all I knew, he was all I knew. My only regret is that I stayed as long as I did and I didn't kill him myself."  
"I understand that feeling well. He died though?"  
"Eventually, a bad fever in the middle of winter. We had no coin for medicine or a healer, not that he'd trust a mage to help him. I was twelve, I think, we didn't celebrate my name day so I didn't really know my age. I still don't. I counted days and estimated my age. I haven't ever seen my birth register."  
"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"  
"I'm going to be twenty three later this year. I picked a random date from the calendar as my name day."  
"That is... young." Fenris was shocked. It would have made her only nineteen at the start of the Blight.  
"Oh thanks!" She laughed, "I didn't think I looked much older than that!"  
Fenris blushed at the unintentional insult. "I did not mean it like that. I only meant that you've done a lot, had a lot if responsibility for being only that young. Not that you look old, not at all, you are very attractive..." That sounded terrible and he groaned inwardly.  
"Um, thanks, Fenris." She smiled at him. "How old are you then?"  
"I have the same problem in that slaves do not celebrate name days and I don't remember when I was born. Though, assuming Danarius had abided by the few rules of slave owners in the Imperium, that is, no slave under the age of sixteen may be used for blood sacrifice or magical experimentation, I must be at least twenty-eight." He nodded at his crude calculations.  
"You're older than I thought."  
"I shall take that as a compliment." He smiled at her."Of course it is. You're older than Hawke and look better than he does." She seemed to realise what she said and averted her eyes. Was she... embarrassed? That was certainly not what he expected. Did she find him as attractive as he found her? Unlikely.  
"I will not tell him you said so." He told her, his voice low.  
"As if he doesn't know. You can't tell me you don't notice how people stare at you?"  
"I know they stare, the markings are..."  
"Nothing to do with your markings. Trust me when I tell you it is because you are incredibly good looking." He folded his arms across his chest. She was mocking him now surely. "Okay, so you do look pretty intimidating and you have that whole 'dark, brooding and silent' air about you, but some people like that." She continued.  
"People like you?" He asked, his mouth running away with him. Venhadis. He'd had too much wine if his brain wasn't engaging and he was sitting here listening to her spout these lies hoping she meant them.  
"Depends," she told him, leaning closer. Her breath was warm on his neck. Her body brushing gently against him. "If you would be terribly offended if I said yes?"  
"No." He breathed, turning to look at her. His eyes gazed over her legs, just a minuscule amount if space away from his hands clasped in his lap. Close enough he could run his fingers over her skin. Her body leant in to him so he had no other option but to look down in to press of her breasts. Her serious face looked directly in to his, eyes watching where he looked, certain in the words she had said.  
"No...?" She prompted softly, her lips forming the word almost erotically, her voice a rich and luscious timbre.  
"No, I would not be offended. At least as long as you," his voice was low and roughened by desire. Fire fuelled lust heating his blood, hardening him with want of her. He moved his face closer to hers, watching her for any sign that he was wrong in doing so. "As long as you are not offended by this." he finished, his lips quickly descending on hers. She moaned almost instantly against his mouth and he grabbed her hands in case they should wander his form. He could not bare to break from this if she should accidentally brush against his markings causing him pain.

Her lips were soft and pliable, but he found himself limited by his lacking knowledge of how he should continue, having never kissed in such a manner. Though he knew he wanted more, needed more. But she seemed to know this, allowing her hands to be caught in his firm grasp, pushing herself against him, turning enough so she could drape one long leg over his calf. She tilted her head and ran the tip of her warm tongue against his lower lip. A spasm of pleasure ran down his spine, curling in his stomach, a knot of ecstasy waiting to be released.  
He opened his mouth for her, barely restraining a groan of hunger as her deft tongue slid against his own. She tasted like wine and apples, two of his favourite things combined in something more intensely irresistible and enrapturing than he could have ever imagined.  
Every breath taken shakily between the melding of their tongues filled his senses with that smell of her, floral and something underneath that was primal and called to him to take her. Though he wouldn't, couldn't, not now, not yet. He was growing impossibly hard beneath his leggings that it was almost painful, not helped by the breathless moans Eve did not hold back on producing,

He did not know for how long they spent like that, but Eve pulled away first, her breathing hard, her face flushed, lips swollen and becomingly reddened.  
"Well," she sighed, licking her lips, staring intently at Fenris. "that was unexpected." Her hands were still within his, she did not try to free herself.  
"Yes." Was she going to tell him it was all a mistake.  
"Maybe we could have a repeat of this another time? When less wine is involved, if you want?"  
"I... Of course. I hope I was not too presumptuous?" He asked, relaxing, removing his hold on her hands.  
"No. Not at all."  
He nodded, standing to leave. "I will see you tomorrow."  
"Of course." She stood to show him out.  
"Thank you for..." How did one say thank you for kissing me so thoroughly I'll be walking strangely all the way home?  
"Pleasure was all mine." She smiled, a shine in her eyes he'd never seen there before.  
"Tomorrow then," he went to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear, but stopped himself. The action too intimate for whatever this was. He had heard from her own lips that she fucked, and that was fine by him, if it even went that far, what else could he be to her.

She bid him goodnight with a seductive smile that held more promise than he felt entitled to, and he left hoping the cool night air would cool his desire.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 16

It was a week after the evening Fenris had 'visited' and a week after she, Garrett, Fenris and Varric had visited the Arishok in the Qunari compound and sorted out the mess caused some crazy elf and some stolen poisonous gas. Garrett hadn't been surprised by any of it, which meant Kirkwall was further in to madness than she had thought. Though it was certainly enlightening, being able to see Fenris in action, she didn't know his lyrium brands allowed him to pluck the beating heart from the chest of an enemy.  
Now she was in the Hanged Man, Garrett, Aveline, Anders and Varric were dealing with something or other in the Gallows, and Eve was having a drink with Isabela.  
"You and Fenris 'eh, Kitten?" The pirate drawled. "I knew you liked each other."  
Eve sighed. "What are you talking about?" As far as she was concerned no one knew what had happened in her room, and as far as anyone else was concerned, there was nothing going on except a little distraction, with a good deal of pleasure thrown in.  
"A little birdy told me that Fenris didn't go straight home the other night. That he was seen leaving a certain sexy Wardens room with an awkward walk." She winked.  
"Would that little birdy be known as the golden chested warbler?" Eve quipped, sipping on some ale. It was too early for the spiced rum Isabela was already downing like water.  
"Ah, you've seen the same bird have you?" She chuckled, "So, is it true?"  
"Is it true you and Hawke left together?" Eve queried, knowing Isabela wouldn't be able to resist sharing her own story of that night. Anything to stop her talking about Fenris.  
"Oh yes. And it was a complete disaster." She said dismally. "He fell asleep as soon as I got him on the bed. Completely useless."  
"He was paranoid you undressed him that night and put him to bed. Wouldn't shut up about how you must have seen his, err, intimates."  
"Please. All that work to not get anything out of it? No, I called Bodahn to do it, but don't tell Hawke that, it's really amusing to see him worry that I saw him in all his naked glory."  
"There's always next time."  
"Exactly, sweet thing! But I'll be making sure there's a lot less drink involved. For him anyway. I had to relieve my own tensions that night which is just not as fun."  
Eve hummed in agreement. Fenris had left her in a near combustible state that same evening. She hadn't felt like that over a one kiss, one long, sensual, hot kiss, in a long time.  
"You're blushing." Isabela stated, breaking Eve from her rapidly dirtying thoughts.  
"Nonsense." She denied a little too vehemently.  
"You know he looks at you like you're the most edible thing he's ever seen? Like he's starving for you?"  
"Again; Nonsense."  
"Deny it all you want, I know what I see and I know what that little bird told me is true. And I'll tell you what,"  
"What?"  
"I won't tell anyone what's going on between you both if you tell me all the sordid details! Like how far those delectable tattoos go, what colour his undergarments are, how well endowed I suspect he is."  
"Shut up, Isabela. You're deluded. Nothing is going on, nothing happened."  
"Then you wouldn't mind if I tried to find out those things for myself."  
"Go ahead, Fenris owes me no loyalty. Though Garrett won't like it if you do."  
"Spoilsport."  
"Whore."  
"I know!" Isabela sighed happily and took a glug of drink.  
"So what's this relic thing you're looking for?" Eve needed to get her off topic.  
"Oh, nothing important, honey." The pirate shrugged. "If I find it I'll get a nice lot of gold for it and be able to afford a new ship. If I don't, well things always sort themselves out."  
"If you want any help tracking it down you know you can ask. I get bored doing nothing." Eve told her.  
"Ooh, Kitten, we could go upstairs now and have some fun if you really want. Work out all that anger you keep bottled up. I bet you like it rough!"  
"Thanks, but I think I'll decline."  
"Prude... Oh look, tall, bitter and tattooed just walked in."  
"Now you're just trying to piss me off." Eve growled and didn't even bother looking up from her tankard.  
"Eve." His deep voice vibrated next to her ear.  
"Shit!" She jumped, spilling her drink across the table, Isabela erupted in to laughter. Bloody drunk.  
"I did not mean to startle you." Fenris said, taking the seat next to her. Close enough his leg touched Eve's, making her shiver.  
Oh, Maker. This was bad. She already spent too much time thinking about that bloody kiss and how amazing it was. If that was the precursor to the main event she couldn't wait. Maybe then she'd get him out if her system and work off the frustration she had been feeling almost constantly.  
"It's fine." She told him. "Garrett's not here by the way. He's at the Gallows, which is probably not the smartest place to be for a mage, or with Anders tagging along. He'll probably end up ranting about the injustice against mages in the middle if the courtyard and get them all thrown in the dungeons."  
"Probably. But I'm not here for Hawke. I came to see you."  
"Oh?" Did she sound a little eager. Maker it had been too long since she had a decent fuck. Weeks in fact.  
"Don't mind me." Isabela announced. "Just pretend I'm not here."  
"I was." Fenris replied giving her his patented 'glare'. He turned back to Eve, his eyes soft, half hidden under his long fringe of stark white hair. "I was wondering if you would like to spar? With me, at the mansion?"  
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Isabela laughed. "Are you going to prick her with your point?" She was practically bent over in raucous laughter.  
"Ignore her." Eve told him. "Yes, I'd like that. Shall we go now before Isabela kills us with more shite innuendos?"  
"Please." He rose from the table and Eve followed. She was already in armour and had her sword.  
"Have fun 'sparring'!" Isabela called, wiping tears from her face. Maker she was drunk.

"You have impeccable timing." Eve told Fenris when they left the Hanged Man. "She was starting to drive me mad."  
"I had thought to come earlier, but I wasn't sure if you were otherwise occupied."  
"No. Not today, and actually I'd been meaning to ask you if you would be interested in sparring. I notice you have quite a few moves I haven't seen before. And not just the lyrium thing."  
"I did see you watching me the other day."  
"It was rather impressive."  
"Most people are horrified."  
"Most people aren't me."  
"I know." He replied, his eyes burning in to hers.  
"Maybe there are some things we can teach each other?" Maker, did that sound suggestive or had she been around Isabela too much today?  
"There is one thing, and it would be more than helpful should Danarius finally decide to collect his investment. But I should like to learn that smite of yours."  
"Okay. But on one condition." She told him. "You don't use it every time Anders pisses you off, else the man is always going to recovering from a smite, and I have it on good authority it's not pleasant."  
"Of course not."  
"Hmmm, why don't I believe you?" She glanced at Fenris who merely smiled that charming half smile at her.

They soon reached Fenris's mansion. The walk completed in comfortable silence. She liked that about him, never pushing for conversation.  
It was still in disarray, but it didn't matter, she'd lived in worse herself, and it wasn't as if it was his home, he was just staying there for lack of anywhere else.  
"This is a great space for sparring. Plenty of room." She told him as he firmly closed the front door and the door to the hall."Did you spar much with the other wardens?" He asked.  
"Almost everyday. I made it a part of their training. A lot of the new recruits we got just before I left were not without their skills but had never seen a real fight." She couldn't wait to give her muscles a proper stretch, to do something that wasn't sitting around all day.  
"You must get terribly bored in the Hanged Man all day then."  
"Yes. Very much so." She watched him walk the length of the room to sit upon a stone bench. "With or without armour?"  
"Without?"  
"Very well."  
She didn't know whether it was preferable to fight that way for him when it wasn't real combat, or this was his way of getting her out of her heavy plate, but either way she was glad to strip down. It was getting hot in Kirkwall, and she was not accustomed to such heat.

It did not take her too long to remove her heavy chestplate, pauldrons, greaves, boots, gloves and the numerous belts that kept it together. She wore only black leggings and a thin red cotton shirt underneath and figured if Fenris could fight barefoot all the time, she could spar like it.  
She hefted her large sword, easier now she wasn't weighed down by armour, and turned round to face Fenris.  
He was half naked. Well, he had his usual tight black leggings on, which she never realised sat so low on his hips, but other than that he was nude. His chest, which Eve was not exaggerating when she thought it, was chiseled to perfection, carved of pure muscle. He was not like many human warriors were, massively and widely muscled, he was streamlined muscled. And as he walked towards her, rippling - Maker she was hot - her eyes traced the stark blue-white of the lyrium that curled around his body like vines against the golden hue of his skin.  
She was going to lose this fight badly if she didn't stop staring at his chest and arms. And shoulders. And that stomach. Fuck. She was doomed!  
"Are you quite alright?" He asked. His face unreadable.  
Eve wondered if he was that oblivious to his attractiveness, or messing with her mind, so she decided to pretend she was completely alright with being in the same room, let alone the same square foot, as the half naked elf.  
"I'm fine." She told him, realising now she was standing without her bulky armour on in front of him, how he was the same height as her, and significantly more muscled. She hadn't noticed that before. She didn't even realise elves were that tall. Zevran was at least several inches shorter than she was and she'd always considered herself tall for a woman. Tall for a man even. Now she felt averagely tall and with too many curves instead of muscle. What in the Void was Fenris doing making her feel all bloody female? Maybe he was intimidating her in to losing. Well she wasn't going to let a bit of sexual frustration in the face of a handsome elf stop her from winning. She was the fucking Hero of Fereldan!

"Let's do this then." She growled at him, he smirked darkly in return. "Critical hits win."  
"What do I get if I win?" He asked.  
"I'll show you how to smite." He had asked to learn that skill, Eve thought she may as well make him work for it.  
"What do you get if you win?"  
'To lick you all over' she thought. Oh Maker, no! "I'll decide when I do." She told him, trying not to imagine too many delightfully naughty situations.  
"If." Fenris corrected her, rolling his shoulders to warm up. "If you win."  
Cocky bastard. She didn't wait for him to begin, she charged straight at him, but it was as if he knew she would, and was quick to meet her attacks.  
In fact, after several blocked attacks, Eve decided they were quite evenly matched. Fenris parried her every hit and he was quick on his feet, almost too quick.

After getting no where for what seemed like a very long time, sweat beading on her forehead and making her shirt damp, she decided she'd have to play dirty. So as she went in to swing, she dropped down at the last moment, swept her legs behind his, threw her sword away, grabbed a dagger she kept sheathed on her forearm, sprang to pin to him to the ground, sitting on his chest, one knee on his left arm, one hand grasping his other, and her blade at his neck.  
"I win." She snarled victoriously at him, panting heavily.  
"You cheated." He told her, his breathing ragged, a sheen of sweat across his skin.  
"I don't remember there being any rules." She reminded him, not moving, but becoming increasingly aware of how close they were.  
"Ah. I see." He smiled slyly at her. Before she could question his tone, his brands lit to life, his arms disappearing from her grip, her knife no longer against his throat. He bucked his lower half against her, Eve already off balance due to him ghosting through her, and found herself flat on her back with Fenris suspended above her, his left hand tightly gripping both of her wrists above her head, and his right curled loosely around her throat.  
She was very conscious of how his lower half was pinned hard between her legs, his legs restraining hers to the stone floor.  
"How the fuck?" She said bemused and breathless.  
"I believe this means I have won."  
"This is definitely cheating." Eve stared hard in to his large green eyes.  
"No rules remember." His face moved minutely closer to hers. She could feel the heat of him through her thin shirt. Every breath he took caused delicious friction against her breasts. He was nestled between her thighs and she felt a wanton moan rise in her throat.  
"I err, guess you want me to teach you that smite now?" She asked in a trembling voice. Dammit, she was so weak to her base desires sometimes.  
"I've changed my mind." His voice was so low it vibrated through his chest and through her body, the pure pleasure of it overloading her senses.  
"You, um, want what... then?" She was barely coherent. Her eyes tracing his face for whatever game this was. Was it a game? Or did he feel as desperate to quench this desire as she did?  
He licked his lips. Maker, she hoped he wanted to at least kiss. He was fantastic at it. Such full lips and his soft tongue.  
His calloused hand moved tentatively from her neck to cup her face, running his thumb seductively over her lips. She almost took the digit in to her mouth, but she didn't, something told her he needed to lead this. So she would let him. For now.  
"What I want," his voice rumbled, "is you."  
He crashed his lips to hers, hard, rough, primal. His tongue delved inside her mouth, caressing, stoking her hunger for him.  
He freed her legs and she was quick to pull them up and lock them behind his lower back, unable to help the roll of her hips against his when he growled deep in his throat, pressing his hardness to the growing dampness between her legs. She pulled away gasping for breath, shuddering under him. His mouth moved to her throat, licking, kissing and nipping sharply. She cried out in pleasure, which seemed to spur him on.  
His free hand trailed the length of her body before hesitantly pushing up her shirt to light a fire against her skin, making her pull him harder against her with her legs.  
He rolled his hips against her, the movement amazingly hitting the right spot to have her moaning lewdly at the feel of him so fucking hard and large against her.  
He did it again, pulling a ragged 'Fenris' from her throat. She needed more, to feel him under her hands, trace those brands with tongue and touch, make him cry her name. And she would have done, if Fenris had locked the fucking door.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter 17

"Hey! Broody!" Varric called from the doorway. "I thought Isabela said he and Eve were here?" The dwarf turned to Hawke.  
"Maybe she was making it up." Replied Anders. "Why are we here anyway? I always feel as welcome as the plague."  
"Because some Qunari have gone missing and Fenris is our Qunari expert if it all goes to the Void. Which it will, because it always does." Hawke told him striding towards the dilapidated main hall.  
"Get up on the wrong side of bed?" Varric chuckled. "Or rather, not in the wrong bed? Namely Rivaini's?"  
"Don't want to talk about it." Hawke grimaced. Maker he'd been so drunk that night, and if he hadn't been he might have gotten his first lay since Lothering. Two years before the Blight. Dammit, maybe he should just do as Uncle Gamlen did and visit the Blooming Rose. He just knew he was going to mess up with Isabela when she eventually forgave him for passing out on her, and he actually did really like her, even the ridiculous innuendo and the mass of men and women she'd left in her sexual wake. She was fun, he needed fun.  
He stubbed his toe on a piece of debris. "Why doesn't he clean this place up!" He growled at no one in particular, his hand on the door. "He's been living here over a year he really needs to..." His words died on his tongue as his eyes locked on to the view in front of him.

A half naked Fenris on a partially undressed Eve, making the most lewd sounds he'd ever heard. It was quite a spectacle, striking him dumb in fact.  
"Andrastes tits!" Varric seemed to bellow over a particularly lustful cry of 'Fenris' in Eve's hoarse tones. At which point they immediately grew still and silent, before jumping apart as if struck by lightening. Which, Hawke thought glancing at Anders, going by the look on the healers face, was entirely possible.  
"What the fuck are you lot doing here?" Eve seethed. "You didn't even bloody knock!"  
"We called out. Not our fault if you and Broody were too wrapped up in each other to hear." Varric smiled at them. Hawke could just see the dwarfs mind making notes for another smutty novel.  
"What do you want?" Fenris vibrated anger. It had been pretty bad timing.  
"Um, Isabela said you were both here and, err, sparring?" Hawke spoke, slightly nervous being faced with two angry, sword wielding people.  
"We were... Are. That is... Venhadis!" Fenris cursed.  
"I'm going to kill her!" Eve stomped over to her pile of armour on the ground quickly reattaching it. "Really kill her. I'll tie her to the anchor of one of those ships in the docks." She continued under her breath.  
"I'm sure she didn't think you were getting up to anything." Hawke defended. "You told her you were... Um, are, sparring, so it's not as if she wanted us to interrupt you both doing, whatever you were... doing."  
"I still owe her five sovereign though." Varric grumbled. "I thought the elf didn't have it in him to conquer Deadly quite so thoroughly."  
"No one was conquered, dwarf!" Fenris had covered himself up Hawke noticed, which he thanked the Maker for. He really didn't need to see Fenris in 'that' state.  
"I thought you had better taste, Eve." Anders piped in, his voice hard. "Really slumming it aren't you?" He spat.  
"Anders," Hawke warned. That was too far, Varric was even shaking his head at Anders poisoned words.  
"You know what, Anders? I couldn't give a shit what you think. For whatever reason you and Fenris hate each other, which I'm pretty sure would be the same if mages were not involved in the equation, you have no right to talk to him like that or question my choices." She stood nose to nose with him, the tension in the room palpable as everyone waited for one of the two to back down.  
"Fine." Anders relented. "You're right. I was out of line. But he isn't right for you. He will hurt you."  
"And you are a better choice, abomination?" Fenris spat.  
Eve just shook her head and stayed silent, Hawke was used to Fenris and Anders bickering over the slightest thing, as annoying as it was.

"Do you need me to stick around or do you have something to kill? Because I'm not in the best mood right now." Eve asked, her tone still very much pissed off.  
"Well I was here to ask for Fenris's help tracking down some lost Qunari." He told her.  
"Qunari do not go missing." The elf stated matter of factly.  
"No they don't. And if it all goes wrong the Arishok seems to like you, so it would be good if you were around." He turned to Eve, "And I wouldn't say no to having you come along either, two swords are always better than one. As long as you're not too exhausted from your, ahem, sparring?" He grinned at her.  
"Shut up." She told him, punching him hard in the shoulder making him wince. "I'll join you."  
"Nothing like tracking Qunari to deal with frustration 'eh, Deadly!" Varric smiled.  
"I'd rather kill something."  
"Don't we always end up killing?" The dwarf replied a little sadly.  
"Not my fault no one wants to talk through their problems over tea." Hawke said, thinking how, actually yes, everyone would rather fight him than reason with him, even though he was a very reasonable man.  
"Let's go then." Fenris said, his displeasure at the world at an all time high, striding a head of them all, despite not knowing where he was going.  
Eve followed behind, though not closely. Hawke reckoned if he hasn't caught them in the midst of their tryst he wouldn't have had a clue anything was even going on between them apart from the looks Fenris threw her way from time to time. Not that he minded of course, he cared for Eve, but not romantically anymore, even if he had hoped to. She had been right about revisiting his past, and she was different now. He didn't want to ruin those memories of her with ones that wouldn't match up. Though one thing troubled him, she had never, ever, made those noises when they'd been together. She'd certainly never said his name the way she had with Fenris. Shit. Now he was questioning his abilities as a lover.  
"Something wrong?" Varric queried, a look on his face that said he knew exactly what was wrong.  
"Um, no." Hawke replied completely unconvincing.  
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Rivaini will give you some lessons!" He smiled. "Or ask Broody for some tips. When he's not likely to kill you of course."  
"I don't think he's going to forgive me for ruining that moment to want to give me advice." Hawke replied wryly.  
"Nope. Probably not. Can you blame him though? Can't say I'd be too happy about being interrupted from between the legs of a beautiful woman either." He tutted. "Now come one, lets go sort out this mess, get back to the Hanged Man and get truly pissed!"  
"Sounds like a plan!" Hawke slapped his stout friend on the back in agreement. "Think we could all do with a drink."  
"And some of us a cold bath!" Varric laughed before walking off to no doubt rile up Fenris.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter 18

They'd found the lost Qunari, unfortunately brutally slaughtered in front of them by desperate religious fanatics. They hadn't even fought back. A dishonourable death. The Arishok would not be pleased.  
"We'll need to tell him, wont we?" Hawke asked Fenris, his robes splattered with gore.  
"It is the only acceptable solution." Fenris confirmed, wiping his blade on the shirt of one of the dead zealots. A waste of life. But at least he had gotten the frustration out of his system at being interrupted with Eve. Venhadis! He couldn't believe the timing of some people. And the fact Varric had seen them together, there was sure to be some sordid tale floating around about characters based on them by the morning. He looked around for Eve who had been even more vitriolic than he was at their ruined moment together, she wouldn't even look at him afterwards. Whether it was shame or pent up frustration he did not know, though Fenris found every time he looked at her he couldn't stop the arousal that drowned him. The way she had moved under him, the way she had said his name. An involuntary growl rose in his throat. He was desperate to have her like that again, being sure to lock the door this time, barricade it maybe.

"Where's Deadly?" Varric asked suddenly looking around.  
Fenris was quickly on high alert. Where was she indeed? He'd lost track of her in the madness of fighting, only occasionally hearing her feral yell as she skewered another fool on her blade.  
"She was chasing after that Ser Varnell to make sure he didn't escape." Hawke said, "I'm sure she went that way." He pointed to the stairs that led further down in to the underbelly of Kirkwall.  
Fenris didn't wait for the others to follow and charged off. She would be fine, he told himself, she better be fine, else he'd be showing Varnell what his insides were made of.

He only had to reach the bottom of the stairs to see her standing over the Templar, her sword at his throat. She was staring at him with a furious glint in her eyes.  
"I know your face." The man choked out.  
"I can assure you, you do not. Murdering arsehole." She told him through gritted teeth. Fenris went to stand behind her, but Eve did nothing to make him think she knew he was there. Even the Templar didn't turn his gaze from her.  
"I do. Though it may have been many years since that face looked as young as yours does now. Really, the similarity is quite astounding. A shame about that ugly scar on your pretty face though. He did it didn't he?" He smiled smugly at her.  
"Shut up, prick."  
"And as disrespectful as she once was too. You better curb that tongue of yours, whore, before I do it for you."  
Eve smiled coldly. "Yet here you are at the end of my blade. Maybe you ought to learn some respect lest I decide your head would look much prettier not attached to that body."  
"Qunari loving bitch." Varnell sneered. "And I thought your mage fucking father was heinous. But here you are, too late to protect those heathens you love. You truly are your parents child."  
"I don't know what you're talking about. You must have knocked your head harder than you thought."  
"You are Viktor Reinards bastard are you not?"  
Fenris saw Eve's lips curl in distaste at that name. "How do you know that name?"  
"Every Templar at Kinloch Hold and the Kirkwall circle knew that name. He was an extremist. He hated mages, they called him a monster, he makes Ser Alrik look like a saint. Then that pretty mother of yours showed up so many years ago, bewitched him, forced him to commit indecent acts against her. Made her belly swell with you." He sneered.  
"Shut your fucking mouth or so help me!" She told him full of rage.  
"And you look just like her! Did you bewitch him too, whore? Did he replace his beastial desire he felt for her, for you instead?"  
Fenris clenched his fists. He was going to die for those twisted words he spouted. He saw Eve's hands tremor oh so slightly on the hilt of her sword. Blood dribbled from Varnell's throat as she pressed harder against him.  
"You know nothing."  
"No? I bet he told you she was dead? Well he lied. She still lives, maybe no longer the mouthy whore she once was. You should visit, it would be such a heart warming reunion. I can't wait to see it. Two whores defiled by the same..."  
He choked on his last words as she pushed the sword with a scream through his throat like it was nothing but butter. His eyes were still widened in horror and pain as she pulled it back out and cleaved his head from his shoulders.  
"Bastard!" She screamed at him. "Fucking Bastard!"  
"Eve." Fenris said sternly, forcing her to acknowledge he was there. That all of them were there.  
She turned quickly, her eyes momentarily wide.  
"Don't you fucking pity me!" She yelled at them all. "Don't you dare!"  
"Eve," Hawke stepped forward, a hand reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, but she quickly stepped away from him, closer to Fenris.  
"Stop it! My father was a terrible bastard. A monster, I have no doubt he treated my mother as badly as that arsehole just said, but he never hurt me like that!" She stated firmly. "So don't you dare feel sorry for me."  
"But he said your mother is alive..." Anders said, "Do you think he was lying."  
"I don't know. I don't care."  
"But she's your mother!" Anders persisted. The abomination never did know when to shut up.  
"She birthed me against her will. I doubt she ever thought of me as her daughter but only a product of pain and brutality." She bent her head. "I don't want to talk about it. Not here. Not now." She spared a quick glance at Fenris. His face passive. He had not attempted to say anything. What could he say? Sorry? She would accept no such thing.  
"The Arishok needs to know what happened and the City Guards need to know about this mess. I'll go get Aveline." She announced.  
"Shall I... accompany you?" Fenris asked tentatively.  
"No thank you." She told him coldly before turning away and quickly stalking off.  
"Don't take it personally, Broody." Varric told him when she'd disappeared from view. "Anyone would need to take some time out after hearing all that."  
"I didn't know her mother was a mage." Anders exclaimed. Hawke nodded in accord. "She of all people should be more understanding of the plight of mages! Instead she constantly says things that are against our right to freedom!"  
"Do not talk of how she should or should not feel about your obsession with the so called rights of mages!" Fenris growled at the abomination.  
"I agree." Hawke added, "not everything is about this plight of yours and how everyone should be on your side."  
"My plight? You are a mage too!" Anders defended angrily, his voice bending and deepening, his eyes glowing.  
"Get a hold of yourself, Blondie." Varric warned. "This is not the time for Justice to come out and play."  
The mage shook his head. "Sorry." He said, though Fenris want sure he really was and snorted at his attempt at apology.  
"You have something to say?" Anders turned to him angrily.  
"No." He couldn't be bothered to waste his breath on him.  
"Good." he was about turn away, instead looking back at Fenris with a scowl on his face. "I expect you won't want anything to do with her now that you know her heritage."  
Fenris glared at him. "What are you talking about?"  
"You know? Finding out her mother is a mage? You won't want to talk to her let alone do whatever you were doing earlier with her considering just how much you hate us!"  
"I already knew her mother was a mage. It changes nothing." He defended. Fool mage. Fenris hadn't even given it another thought when she'd mentioned it in conversation. It was as unimportant as the weather.  
"Might want to shut up now, Blondie, before you say something really stupid." Varric told Anders.  
"Let's just wait for Aveline and Eve to return without it turning in to a fight, okay?" Hawke told them, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
Fenris nodded and returned to where the main fight had occurred and waited for Eve and Aveline, wondering what he was suppose to say to the Warden-Commander, if she even expected him to say anything.

An hour later Aveline arrived. Alone.  
"Where's Eve?" Asked Hawke confused, taking the question straight from Fenris's mouth.  
"She walked me to the entrance and said she was going back to the Hanged Man to sleep." Aveline told him bruskly.  
"She doesn't sleep so that's rubbish." Anders said.  
"She's a grown woman. She can do as she wishes." Aveline replied and Fenris was apt to agree, before she looked around. "Makers breath, Hawke. What have you done?"  
"Defended ourselves. Ser Varnell was leading a bunch of fanatics and murdered those Qunari delegates."  
"And where is Ser Varnell?" She asked, her arms crossed, that unrelenting look of anger deepening her brow lines.  
"He's the headless corpse you may have seen when you walked in." Hawke nodded in the direction of the Templar.  
"Hawke..." she sighed. "The Viscount is going to be here any minute. He's not going to be happy."  
"Nor is the Arishok. At least now they've got something in common."  
"Not funny."  
"I wasn't trying to be." He shook his head and turned to Fenris, Varric and Anders. "Look, you three go on ahead. I'll see you at the Hanged Man later for drinks if you feel like it."  
"If you insist. See you there, Hawke." Varric said turning away.  
Fenris nodded his goodbye, he didn't want to spend any longer than he had too surrounded by dead Qunari and human fools.

"Are you going to see Eve?" Varric asked Fenris once they were out the dank tunnels and Anders had left them both for his run-down clinic in Darktown.  
"To say what?" Fenris asked.  
"Shit. I don't know. She just heard about her mother, and that Templar said some hideous stuff about her father. She's probably feeling pretty low, even if she pretends otherwise."  
"I will see her later if she wishes to see me. What good it will do though..." He shrugged. She probably wanted to be alone anyway, that was how she dealt with things, a lot like himself really. She didn't seek comfort, she sought violence.  
"Ah, Broody, last of the romantics." Varric chuckled.  
"What has romance got to do with anything!" He growled.  
"You're telling me what Hawke, Blondie and I disturbed earlier wasn't anything romantic?" He asked unconvinced.  
"Of course not. It was just..."  
"Fucking?"  
"It's a course way of saying it, but yes."  
"Bollocks." The dwarf said. "If it were you would have done it already, and you haven't have you?" Fenris glared at him. "I'll take that look to mean I'm right. Besides, if it were just fucking you wouldn't be concerned over her. And don't lie elf, you helped her out that night of the Ball, you checked on her last week when the conversation turned damn right depressing. And I saw your face earlier when we couldn't find her. If she hadn't killed that bastard Templar I knew you would have done it, we all saw your tattoos light up."  
"You have a vivid imagination dwarf."  
"And you're stubborn. Deny it all you like, Broody, but she means more than just a rut and you know it."  
"Fasta Vass!" Fenris cursed, angry. Turning to Varric. "Even if I felt like that, it would be no more than a meaningless dalliance. She still has feelings for that King she travelled with during the Blight. She has not indicated to me anything we do would be more than a one time bedding. Besides which, she is no fool. I have nothing to offer her. I am merely a slave on the run with nothing to my name, a name that isn't even my own."  
"You sell yourself short, Fenris." Varric told him. "And the only person you're fooling is yourself. She likes you. A lot. Even Hawke didn't know about her mother, yet apparently you did. I think you mean more to her than you want to believe."  
"Then she is a fool." He spat, distancing himself from Varric. He didn't want to talk about Eve anymore. It was pointless. Futile. Even if she did want more from him than a brief night together, he didn't think he could give her that. She might have most of Thedas believing she were dead, but she was still the Hero of Fereldan, the Warden-Commander, the woman of legendary stories, who could have her pick of any man over him.  
Confusing, convoluting woman! She had not offered any indication she wanted to include damnable feelings in to this... this... thing! Yes, she had spoken to him more than he saw her speak with the others and she seemed to smile a lot more when they were alone, but he had been the one to kiss her first, to ask her to spar today. He had basically been the one to chase her. How could he not want to though? She was desirable, intoxicating and she had not rejected him like he had expected her to. She had given him no reason to doubt it was nothing more than consensual pleasure. So what if a little voice in the back of Fenris's mind wondered what it would be like for her to want more from him, for her to choose him over any others, to want him for more than his body. Venhedis. Varric had made him question it all.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19

The Gallows were grim. A reminder of the cruelty Tevinter was capable of. Why had they not removed those horrific statues of screaming, desperate slaves? They were hideous.  
Maker, it was depressing and Eve was standing in the corner of the courtyard watching for a woman that looked like her.  
What Ser Varnell had said shocked her. Made her blood run cold. Was he really telling the truth? Her mother was still alive? And here? If it was true she was going to find her, see her, meet her... maybe.

She'd dreamed about what a mother might be like when she was just a girl. Someone who loved her, read to her, sang to her. Maybe she would have baked her name day cakes, all just because she wanted to make Eve happy. And mothers were protective over their children weren't they? She would have saved her from her father, stopped the beatings, the starvation, scars would never have been made. Her face would not be a reminder of everything she never had.

Shit. Her eyes stung with tears and her throat felt choked with emotion. She was being stupid. The Templar was probably lying anyway. But he had said her fathers name, who else would have known save someone who knew him?

It was dusk now. Some of the mage stallholders were closing up. Templars were changing shifts and mages milled around before they would ultimately be forced back in to the confines of the circle for the night.  
She stood in the darkening shadow of where they use to hang slaves who dared to hope for freedom thinking about the woman who had brought her in to the world. Her mother would have red hair like her. She knew that, her father had said so once when he'd cut it off, cropped to her head to make her look like a boy. She would be pale skinned just as Eve was, but not grey eyed, that was her fathers trait.  
She watched. Waited.  
Black haired woman. No.  
Fair haired. No  
Tanned skin.  
Elf.  
Grey.  
Freckled.  
No. No. No. No!  
This was stupid. Varnell had lied because he was a fucked up fanatic shit. Her mother was dead, burnt to dust, not even a memorial stone to mark her short life, Eve wouldn't even know her name, she was nothi... Wait! Was that crimson coloured hair? A little greyed with age? Eve caught it out the corner of her eye. A petite frame in mustard coloured robes walking calmly through the courtyard.  
She couldn't see the woman's face, but her hair was so much like her own, just longer, like it used to be before she'd had Zevran hack it off in Antiva. Eve moved from the shadows to calmly follow her. She was carrying books from what she could see, until she dropped them after snagging her poorly fitted robe on a loose stone.  
Eve rushed over to help. If it wasn't her she was just a helpful passerby and if it was... Her stomach twisted anxiously.  
A book had skidded a fair distance away from the woman, Eve picked it up. 'A History of Medicinal Plants'. Fun.  
"Um, excuse me," she spoke nervously, so unlike her normal self who covered discomfort with anger. "You dropped this." She stood in front of the bent over woman who was neatly re-stacking her books.  
She looked up and Eve reflexively took a step back. A mouth like her own, pale skin, same bone structure, a slim nose, elegant eyebrows. It was like looking in a mirror of herself in fifteen years. Except that was not what had Eve retreating from her. It was the brand on Tranquility on her forehead.  
"I know you." The woman, her mother, spoke, in that horrible, empty monologue she remembered from the Tranquil in the tower and the Wonders of Thedas shop in Denerim. "But it cannot be. They said you had died."  
"I... I..." Eve croaked, her chest tightening, bile rising in her throat.  
"But you look like me."  
"I am your daughter." She replied shakily.  
"You have your fathers eyes. His build."  
"Yes." Why could she say nothing more.  
"I had never expected to see you. It is an unforeseen event."  
"Why are you...?"  
"Tranquil?" She finished for Eve. "An unavoidable state. They said I went quite mad when told you had died. I cannot remember, but it seems reasonable. I have heard it is what some people do when faced with loss. Besides, I am useful now, memories of your father do not trouble me. It is better."  
"But, you are my mother. I wanted to meet her. You."  
"I am sorry for your shock. Maybe you should like to visit another time. Ask for Saira. I am late with these books and must be on my way." She took the book out of Eve's shaking hand and left.

She watched her mother go. For how long she wasn't sure, but by the time a Templar urged her to leave it had grown dark and quiet and she soon found herself outside Anders clinic without realising that was where she was going.


	20. Chapter Twenty

An Anders POV chapter, just because it felt right. Thanks to those who continue to read, review, favourite and follow.

Chapter 20

The door to the clinic quietly opened, the squeak of rusty, rotten hinges alerting Anders to someone's entrance. He had long since extinguished the light outside so it couldn't be a patient. It was probably Hawke, Anders had asked to speak with him later, though he just assumed it would be some quiet corner of the Hanged Man.  
"I'll be just a minute, Hawke." He called from his desk at the back, tidying up the pages of his manifesto that littered the desktop.  
"It's not Hawke. It's me." Came Eve's voice just behind him. He quickly turned around. This was completely unexpected, in fact, since Justice had been such an arsehole to her, he thought she wouldn't willingly step foot in his clinic ever again. They were barely on speaking terms.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked surprised, before really looking at her. Her normally pale skin was almost translucent, her full lips stretched taut and thin. Her eyes were wide, like she'd seen something terrible. She looked awful. Then it dawned on him.  
"You went to find your mother didn't you?"  
She nodded, then swayed. Shit, this wasn't good, she was going in to shock. He quickly grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit down on his cot.  
"Tell me," he urged sitting beside her. She was cold as ice. He pulled the woolen blanket off his bed and placed it over her shoulders. If it was anyone else he would have put his arm around her and pulled her close, but he knew from his time under her command in Amaranthine she didn't do that kind of touching.

"Is it bad?" She spoke quietly, her voice shaking.  
"Is what bad?"  
"Tranquility. I've heard you speak of it before, but I've never really thought about it."  
"I don't understand, what has that got to do with..." He looked at Eve, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Fuck. No?" He breathed angrily, then forced his emotions under control. He couldn't let Justice out, not with Eve here.  
"She's Tranquil, Anders. Fucking, bloody Tranquil." She started to shake, and he put his arm around her shoulders, her personal space be damned, he knew when someone needed comforting, even her.  
"She knew who I was. She looked just like me. She said they'd told her I was dead and that she went mad with grief and they turned her Tranquil."  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He told her.  
Justice raged in his head. 'Another victim of the abuse of Templars in the name of the Maker! Violation, defilement, they must be stopped!'  
"She was so... calm." Eve continued, heedless of Justice's fury that Anders was trying to contain. "I don't know what I expected, I had hopes, I thought I'd forgotten about them. How much I used to pray she really was alive and come and rescue me. But she always was alive, just... not."  
"I don't know what to say." He admitted, there were no words to make this better or right.F His years in the tower in Kirkwall, experiencing friends forced in to the Rite, he knew there was little to do to help that kind of loss.  
"Should I kill her?" She turned to look at him, a single tear escaping to trail down her face. Had he ever seen her so sad before? So bereft? So human? She was either a furious killing machine, or cold, only cracking the odd joke or smile. Though since arriving in Kirkwall he'd seen more of the Eve that Oghren had spoken of, the one who apparently laughed freely, made friends easily and did anything in her power to make those around her happy.  
"I don't know."  
"Garrett said you killed a friend who they made Tranquil."  
"I did. He asked me to."  
"How could he ask you?" She asked in disbelief.  
"It was a set up, we were attacked. My shock at seeing him, Karl, like that, it brought out Justice, it somehow reconnected him to the fade, for a moment anyway." It was still hard talking about it. Reliving it, remembering he was dead.  
"Could you do it again?"  
"What?"  
"Let Justice out? Reconnect my mother to the fade?"  
"I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure if it would work, or for how long."  
"Even if it were for just a minute. She could tell me if she would rather be dead than Tranquil at least."  
"You'd have to get her away from the Gallows. And what if she doesn't return? The Templars will be suspicious, they might come looking for her if she doesn't go back."  
"They won't waste time looking for a Tranquil." She looked him in the eyes. "Please, Anders. I've spent my whole life believing she was dead and now I find out she's been Tranquil for the last twenty three years. It's worse than death isn't it? You would rather be dead than be turned in to that?"  
"I would." He admitted sadly.  
"Then I need to give her the choice, if I can."  
He looked at her. Such lovely eyes filled with sadness, such a pained voice. It was as if she were a completely different person from the one he knew.  
'Maybe doing this will make her better understand our plight. It is a honourable thing to do.' Justice spoke.  
"I understand. I would do, have done, the same. Justice agrees too." Anders finally replied.  
"Thank you." She sighed on a shuddering breath. "I don't know how to repay you."  
"I haven't even helped you yet," he smiled, "but there is something."  
"Anything."  
"Don't say that, you haven't even heard what is yet." He chuckled lightly, the hand resting on Eve's upper arm stroking her soothingly.  
"I have heard rumours of something called 'The Tranquil Solution'. I know we don't see eye to eye on mages, Eve, but the number of Tranquil mages in Gallows has trebled. When I was there earlier with Hawke they were everywhere. Mages I knew who were not Tranquil a month ago, who would never have given the Templars reason to use the Rite of Tranquility, have been cut off from the Fade."  
"You have a plan?" She asked, not a note of disbelief in her tone.  
"A few of the Templars led by Ser Alrik, a cruel bastard, have been taking mages down in to the dungeons that run below the gallows on an almost weekly basis. I want to stop them. See if they're doing it at Meredith's behest, which is against Chantry teachings!" His voice had grown ragged with anger.  
"Okay."  
"Okay? Wow, I didn't think you'd really agree!" He blurted out.  
"You're helping me, I'll help you. Garrett will want to be with you on this too you know."  
"I need to talk to him about it." He agreed. "In fact he said he'd be at the Hanged Man tonight. We can go together?"  
"Can, we, can I, just... stay here for a little longer."  
"Of course. You still look a little paler than normal and you're still cold."  
"Pathetic isn't it." She shook her head looking away from him, but she didn't try and remove herself from his arm. It was nice having her here like this. Really nice. He hadn't had contact with another person like this for so long. Eve once admitted she wouldn't share a bed with him because she thought he'd be a cuddler, well, she was right, he couldn't help that, it was who he was.  
"It's not at all pathetic. You're human, seeing your mother like that must have been awful. You're allowed to get upset sometimes you know."  
"Not if I can help it." She grumbled, wiping her face of the few escaped tears.  
"No one will think any less of you for it. I certainly don't. Truth be told, Warden-Commander Eve can be really terrifying. The Eve I've seen glimpses of here in Kirkwall, who doesn't break my nose, is actually really charming."  
"Flatterer." She scoffed.  
"Only because its true." He winked at her and was rewarded with a slight smile.  
"I know why you left the Wardens, but do you miss it? Them? Nathanial, Oghren, Sigrun? You were friendly with some of the newer recruits too?"  
"Yeah, I suppose so." He said after some thought. "Apart from all that business with talking darkspawn and broodmothers, which was just bloody creepy. I miss the camaraderie, a decent roof over my head, not worrying about Templars, or having to pretend I'm not a mage."  
She nodded as if agreeing.  
"Do you miss it?" Anders asked after a short time of silence.  
"To a point. It's not like I really joined in. But there was a certain comfort being surrounded by you all, to have a purpose, to be able to focus on doing my job as the Commander and filling out the Fereldan Grey Warden ranks, having darkspawn to fight on a regular basis." She shrugged. "And the home comforts were pretty good too."  
"Well you did have the best room and the biggest bed!"  
"Oh don't remind me, I miss that bed! And sheets that were dry and didn't smell like mould!"  
"I can't imagine Nathanial made your bed smell that much better than mould!" He joked nudging her shoulder.  
"Oh shush, he smelt just fine."  
"I bet he misses you." Anders pointed out. When he had told her about the 'puppy eyes' he hadn't been kidding. He was just another man on her list who she would remain an unrequited love to.  
"He would have gotten over it. Even if I hadn't 'died' I don't think I would have ever returned."  
"Where were you going? You never did say why you left and faked your death."  
"I was called to Weishauppt." She began to inspect her hands. A nervous habit, he'd seen her do before back at Vigils Keep when things had been getting a little stressful.  
"And that's bad because...?" He prompted her.  
"They wanted to talk to me about how I killed the Archdemon."  
"That doesn't sound bad!" He laughed, "That sounds like you were going to be honoured, why wouldn't you want that?"  
She started to move away, "I shouldn't burden you with this. We are no longer part of the Grey Wardens. It doesn't matter."  
He pulled her back down. "Tell me." He demanded.  
She looked at him, her face showing surprise at his assertive tone. "Alright." She sighed. "They wanted me to go to Weishauppt to talk about how I killed the Archdemon because I didn't die."  
"I'm guessing that's unusual and not something to celebrate, because I for one, despite your violent behaviour and the occasional smite, am pretty glad you're alive!"  
She chuckled dryly. "Yeah. It is unusual. Mainly because the Grey Warden that strikes the killing blow has to die to stop the Blight. Only a Grey Warden can end a Blight because when an Archdemon dies it soul seeks the nearest tainted body. If it's another darkspawn then they will be transformed in to yet another Archdemon, but if it is a Grey Warden, then two souls cannot live in the one body and both of them are destroyed."  
"Destroyed? Like not even passing in to the Fade and going to the Makers side, if the Chantry is to be believed, just ceasing to exist?"  
"Yes."  
"But that didn't happen. I'm almost afraid to ask what you did!"  
"We, that is Alistair and I, were told the night before we marched to Denerim from Redcliffe, by a fellow Grey Warden, Riordan, the truth about killing the Archdemon, and Maker be damned, I didn't want to die. I didn't want Alistair to die, even if I couldn't even stand to look at him, he was going to be King, Fereldan needed him as King. There were only three of us to end it, our chances were not high that one of us, let alone all of us, would survive long enough to strike the killing blow.  
"We had travelled since Ostagar with a woman called Morrigan. Oghren might have mentioned her?"  
Ah, yes, Morrigan the witch, daughter of the fabled Flemeth. Anders nodded, afraid that if he spoke it would break her from her story. She had never shared with him, or any of them, stories of her time as a Grey Warden during the Blight. It was strange and alluring to hear her voice for this length of time.  
"After meeting with Riordan she was waiting in my room. She said she knew, had known all along, that a Grey Wardens life must be sacrificed. I was so fucking angry with her that she had never said anything before that I almost broke her bloody neck. Anyway, she told me it didn't have to happen that way, she had a way out to ensure both Alistair and I would live. All I had to do was get a Grey Warden to impregnate her, namely Alistair, so that she would be carrying a baby with the taint and just had to be close enough when it was killed that Urthemiel would seek out the baby, a thing too small to have a soul to destroy, and inhabit that body instead."  
"You didn't?" He told her disbelieving. "You never would have agreed to that. You hate blood magic!" He pulled away from her in shock.  
'Fool girl. She has messed with things she cannot comprehend.' Justice said vehemently.  
"She said it wasn't blood magic. That it was old magic." Eve defended.  
"But still! Did she have it?"  
"Yes. I found her, not long after we laid you to rest. She had, had the child. Wouldn't tell me where it was, only that it was safe."  
"Why did you allow it?"  
"Why?" She near shouted. "I didn't want to die, Anders! I didn't want Alistair to die! It was foolish! Stupid, foolish and weak! I am ashamed of what I made Alistair do." She dropped her head in to her hands.  
"You did it to save him didn't you? You say you wanted to live, but you wanted to live for him."  
"I still loved him. Really loved him, despite my anger at him. I thought if we lived he might change his mind about us, about me, that he'd want me as more than a mistress, a shameful secret on the side. But, fuck, I made him sleep with a woman he despised to save him, us, and I saw the hate in his eyes after, on that rooftop when I sunk my blade in to that dragons head, and every time thereafter."  
"And Weishauppt knew about this?"  
"Not that I know of. But they knew something had happened. They wanted to speak to me about it. I might have been a fool to save my life with Morrigan's offer, but I wasn't fool enough to let them interrogate and torture the truth out of me. To would find out what I did, what Alistair did, about the child."  
"So you pretended you were going and faked your death. To save him again."  
Eve snorted, "No, the thought didn't even enter my head actually. He's a King, a Warden King, he's useful to them, they won't hurt him. I wanted to save myself. Again. Besides, I've been tortured and interrogated before, I don't ever want to suffer such a thing again and I'd had enough, lost enough. I don't have many years left you know, I want to be able to live them without the pain of torture or being locked away."  
'She has always been a selfish creature.' Justice sneered.  
'It is called self preservation. I think you'll find I did the same thing when we joined' Anders told Justice sternly which shut him up.  
"Has the Calling started already?" He asked Eve concerned. He was all too aware of how little time she had, even compared to him.  
"No. The nightmares are always bad. I always seem to feel the darkspawn, but I've not started to understand them or hear their song." She laughed bitterly.  
"Tell me when you do?" He grabbed one of her hands. "Promise me?"  
"Why? You've got your mage rights and more years ahead of you than I have, you can't come with me!"  
"No, maybe not, but, just don't leave without saying anything."  
"Ugh, you men and your goodbyes!" She smiled. "You're as bad as Garrett!"  
"We care about you." He told her sincerely.  
"Careful, you might make me blush!" Eve laughed.  
"Trust me, sweetheart, if I wanted to make you blush I would have done it by now!"  
"Oh, is that a threat or a promise?" She teased him. He couldn't remember her ever teasing before.  
"Depends,"  
"On what? If I buy you something other than the piss they call ale at the Hanged Man?"  
"Got it in one!" He grinned playing along with what Eve thought was him joking around. Of course he was lying if he said he didn't mean it. He would take great satisfaction in making her blush. All over. She'd soon forget that mage hating, bitter, slave of an elf she'd been squirming under this morning.  
'Inane, primitive thoughts and desires get the mages nowhere' Justice boomed. Anders ignored him. He wasn't going to defend his attraction to Eve. It had been in his head longer than Justice had.

"Shall we go then?" She asked, oblivious to his longing as usual. She was oblivious to everyone's longings for her.  
"Of course." He smiled, following her lead, hoping the elf would be waiting, wondering where Eve was and see them walk in together. Anything to piss him off!  
'Childish and absurd behaviour' Justice told him.  
'Oh shut up you.' Anders spat back. Could he never jeep his comments to himself! The spirit allowed him little pleasure anymore, he could let him have this.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter 21

Fenris hadn't been at the Hanged Man when she and Anders arrived after her little breakdown. Everyone had looked surprised when they had walked in together, Isabela winking suggestively. Varric mentioned that Fenris 'wouldn't be happy' and Eve had pretended she didn't see her fellow wardens self-satisfied smirk over that comment.  
She and Anders managed to get Garrett to speak to them in her room about her mother, about seeing if they could reconnect her to the fade. He was horrified at the revelation her mother was Tranquil, in fact he was quietly seething with rage.  
Anders had also told him about the Tranquil Solution he had heard rumours of and had agreed to help. They had all decided they would deal with Eve's mother first and then Ser Alrik, as Anders needed to find out when exactly the Templar would be in the dungeons.  
It was left to Eve to decide where she would take her mother to see if Justice could temporarily reverse the rite. That was why Eve was on her way to Fenris's mansion to visit the elf. She could hardly take the woman to Garrett's, or Anders clinic, especially if it all went wrong. The Hanged Man was completely out of the question, but Fenris's was perfect. It escaped too much notice, since his neighbours believed it to be vacant and it was tucked away from the main flow of Hightown traffic. But would he agree?  
It was no secret he hated mages and hated Anders, but he'd also practically gone missing since finding the Qunari delagates and Eve's had decided not to return with Aveline. She couldn't quite understand why he'd not been around, that morning they'd been locked together in splendid pleasure, she had felt exactly how happy he'd been about that and he'd bloody initiated it! But they'd been interrupted - Maker she had been so mad - and then he'd heard that vitriolic from Ser Varnell, not that he didn't know her mother was a mage, but maybe he'd changed his mind about them? Wait… them? There was no them. Just two people with the same agenda of finding whatever gratification they could with each other. Simple, uncommitted sex.  
Or maybe not if Fenris was no longer interested. But he was a free man, it was his choice, as dissapointing as that was. The idea of not being with him like that made Eve's insides squeeze painfully. Which was foolish because there were more important things to worry about right now than that, and she had promised to feel no more for someone who shared her bed than detached fondness. Or at most, friendship. Not romance, or Maker forbid, the 'L' word.

It was the middle of the day, the sun high up in the blue sky above Kirkwall. It was the month of Solace and whereas in Feraldan it would be fairly warm, here it was becoming almost unbearably hot, especially in heavy armour.  
She didn't bother knocking on the front door, if anyone saw her it would be a give away the house was not as empty as believed. So she quietly slipped in to the relieving coolness of the estate through the unlocked front door.  
"Fenris?" She called out to the silent mansion. She couldn't hear him, but he was a quiet man, it didn't mean he wasn't there.  
She continued in to the main hall where they had sparred only a few days ago, the memory of him above her making her run hot in ways which had nothing to do with the weather.  
"Fenris?" She called out again. Great, he wasn't here. Maybe he'd gone off with Garrett to help that Chantry Brother, Sebastian, who'd been introduced them all to during one of Varric's card nights. He seemed nice enough, just very devout. And shiny.  
She sighed in annoyance. Well, this had been a waste of time. She could go to the room he lived in to be sure he wasn't here, but that seemed rather invasive especially if he weren't... A creak sounded from up the stairs. Eve quickly turned her attention to the door of Fenris's room.  
She heard it again. Shit. Maybe someone had broken in? It was entirely possible, it looked like a forgotten dilapidated building, but there were still items worth stealing inside.  
She crept up the stairs quietly, an art form in armour, before reaching the door to his room and not taking any chances, kicked in the door, only for a glowing apparition to launch itself at her and push her up against the nearest wall by her shoulders.  
It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the swiftness in which she now found herself pinned against stone, to see that it wasn't an intruder, but Fenris himself, his face contorted in anger and confusion.  
"Fenris!" She growled at him under his unrelenting grip. "It's me, Eve!"  
His eyes seemed to suddenly clear from whatever thoughts possessed him, growing wide with the realisation he had her held up against a wall. His grip relaxed a little, his tattoos dimmed, and he slowly released Eve.  
At least he hadn't thought to rip her heart out. Apparently Fenris had the same visualisation.  
"Venhadis, woman! I could have killed you!" He gritted out between his teeth staring in to her face.  
"I called out for you several times, thought you weren't here, heard something from your room and was making sure there wasn't an intruder rifling through your things!" She defended. "What were you doing?" She looked at him properly and then quickly turned away, embarrassment and desire quickly colouring her face. He was naked. Not half naked, not naked save for his undergarments, just completely... naked! Fuck!  
"I was asleep." She heard him grunt before he stalked off, hopefully to get himself dressed. Andrastes tits, now she'd never be able to look at him without seeing him like that again. Of course that was no bad thing, he was, for lacking a better word, magnificent. Though she hadn't seen him long enough to trace his tattoos down his body.

She stayed on the landing outside his chamber, unsure of his mood.  
"Why are you here?" He appeared from the doorway, his face scowling, though thankfully he was now fully dressed.  
"I wanted to ask you something," she admitted, feeling uncomfortable under his anger filled gaze.  
"And that couldn't wait until later?" He spat.  
Later? Half the day was already gone and no, her bloody Tranquil mother couldn't wait anymore, she'd already been waiting Eve's whole life! Why was he so angry at her? He had no right and no fucking reason to be treating her like this.  
Rage coursed through her like flames. How dare he speak to her like this!  
"Actually, Fenris. It can wait. I no longer need your assistance." Eve told him with forced politeness before she could tell him to just fuck off. Then she turned away from him and down the stairs wishing she could punch something.  
"I'm sorry." His voice carried down to her, stopping her mid step. "I'm sorry, Eve. I did not mean to be angry with you."  
"Could have fooled me." She told him with a withering look over her shoulder.  
"You caught me at a bad moment."  
"Asleep, you told me. In the middle of the day no less."  
He was silent for a moment. "I did not realise it was that late."  
"Obviously." She continued to leave.  
"Wait." he called out, his voice closer. "If you need my assistance you only have to ask."  
Eve turned round to see him descending the staircase.  
"Like I said. I no longer need your help." She was being stubborn, she knew that, despite Fenris's apology which she guessed he didn't actually do all that often.  
"Why must you be so obstinate?" He demanded.  
"I haven't seen you for several days since that... massacre," she started.  
"I did not think you wished to see me or speak about what happened." Fenris interjected.  
"I don't care about you not coming to see me about what that bloody Templar said." She told him. It was only partly true, she had been somewhat disappointed not to see Fenris after she had found her mother and spoken to Anders, but why would he have turned up to check on her? She had told him she wished to be alone, though she had hoped he would have been, not necessarily enthused to see her today, but certainly not threatening.  
"Then what is it you need of me?"  
"I found her."  
"Your mother." He stated, as if he already knew. Was she that predictable?  
"Yes." She looked away from his penetrating gaze.  
"It wasn't what you expected."  
She barked out a cold laugh that echoed around the hall. "That's one way of putting it." She told him and continued to tell him that she had found her to be Tranquil. That she had spoken to Anders about it afterwards and did not miss the growl that rose from Fenris's throat at the mention of the healer's name.  
She told him how they were going to try and reconnect her mother to the Fade with Justice's help, if only to end her suffering if need be. That his mansion would be ideal to bring her.  
"If you did agree of course," Eve concluded, "I do not expect you to be here. I know how you feel about mages, about Anders..."  
"I will be here." He told her adamantly, his voice a low vibration in his chest. "I do not trust your safety in the company of so many mages."  
Eve crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "You think I can't look after myself?"  
"I think you would... appreciate, the help should you need it." His eyes bore in to hers.  
"Thank you then."  
"I hope you know what you're doing."  
"I never said I did." She sighed sadly, wishing she could blot out the voice that told her this would all go wrong.  
"When do you wish to bring your mother?"  
"Tomorrow before noon if that is alright with you? I need to tell Garrett and Anders, but they have already agreed."  
"Then I shall wait for you here."  
She nodded a final thanks and left, hoping for the best when tomorrow arrived.

First thing the next day, after checking with Anders and Garrett that they were still willing to help, Eve went to the Gallows to collect her mother.  
It was quiet this early, only a few stall holders setting up their wares, a few Templars standing guard. She looked around, Anders was right, there seemed to be a fair few of newly Tranquil, the telling sunburst branded on to their foreheads in lyrium, the bright and raw wounds a sign of how recent the rite had been carried out. Her mother's brand was long healed and faded in comparison.  
She waited for what felt like hours to see whether she could spot her mother herself, but she finally relented in to asking a Templar, a fairly young man with severely cut chestnut hair and a thin moustache, for help.  
"Excuse me, Ser?" She approached him.  
"How can I help you, Serah?" He answered, his face betraying his confusion at being spoken to by a civilian.  
"I'm looking for a Tranquil, by the name of Saira?"  
"And?"  
"I need to speak with her."  
"What do you want with her?"  
"Does it matter? I wish to speak with her." Eve was hardly going to tell him she was her daughter.  
"It does matter because the mages are under our jurisdiction, who they socialise with is in our interest."  
"She's just a Tranquil. It's not like she can do magic."  
"That is not the point, Serah."  
"Can you just tell me where I might find her and I'll leave you alone." She tried reasoning, though it probably sounded less than reasonable. He was starting to piss her off.  
"Is there a problem here Ser Grigsby?" A deep yet soft voice asked with authority behind her, she turned to say that indeed, yes, there was a problem, until she recognised the Templar who had approached. Cullen. Shit. Shit. Shit. She hoped he didn't recognise her, it had been awhile and he had been somewhat, traumatised, by his experience in the Fereldan Circle. Though she guessed from his apparent sanity the rumour he'd gone mad and on a mage killing spree had been nothing but rumour.  
"This woman here had requested to know where Tranquil Saira is." Ser Grigsby asked in a faltering voice.  
"And why haven't you told this woman..." Cullen prompted, turning to Eve.  
"Eve Thorne." She told him.  
"And why, Ser Grigsby have you not told Serah Thorne where Saira is?"  
"Because she didn't tell me why she wished to speak with her." Grigsby told him, though his previous confidence was lost in the face of Cullen.  
"The Tranquil are here only by choice. We have no true authority over them. Now, as way of apology over your rudeness to this woman, why don't you go and find Saira, she will be in the Library no doubt, and bring her here." Cullen told him, his tone offering no chance of refusal. Ser Grigsby nodded shakily and walked as fast as he could, difficult in the plate and robe monstrosity the Templars wore.  
"My apologies, Serah." Cullen turned to Eve. "Ser Grigsby is a new recruit. I will have to make sure he better understands our roles here."  
"Thank you." She replied, avoiding giving him eye contact.  
"You said your name was Eve Thorne?" He asked.  
"I did."  
"Fereldan?"  
"Raised."  
"Ah." He seemed to be looking at her rather intently. "You do remind me of her."  
"Her who?" Shit. He recognised her. Shit!  
"Saira. You are her daughter are you not?" He said.  
Eve let out a breath she'd been holding. "I am. Though I only found her recently. I believed her to be dead."  
"We don't allow mages any contact with family members, but, as I heard you rightly say to Ser Grigsby, she is Tranquil now, we have no reason to keep her here if she no longer wishes to be."  
"So if I wished to... have her live with me? If she didn't come back?" Eve asked. There was a chance her mother would not be returning after all.  
"Entirely acceptable." He nodded. "Though notification of such a thing would be appreciated."  
"Thank you Ser?" She would pretend she didn't know him, keep up the pretence that he was merely a stranger to her since he recognised her only as Saira's daughter and not as one of the Grey Wardens who had rescued him from demons and blood mages.  
"Knight-Captain Cullen, Serah, and my pleasure. I shall bid you good day. If you are approached by anymore Templars lacking knowledge please point them in my direction." He told her politely.  
"Of course. Thank you again, Knight-Captain." She replied, pleased he seemed to have moved on from the horrors of Kinloch Hold.

She only waited another half an hour before she saw her mother walking calmly towards her. This time she was wearing dark brown robes that fitted her slight frame better than what she'd been in when Eve had last seen her.  
"Good morning." Saira spoke in the concise monotone of the Tranquil. "Ser Grigsby alerted me of your presence. Do you wish to talk? I am currently free of duties for the rest of the day."  
"I, um, yes." Eve spoke stiltedly, still uneasy about the woman before her, now noticing how her nose, though much like Eve's, had obviously been broken in the past and reset badly. A scar marred the bottom left of her lip and chin, and there was a strange crescent scar on her neck below her right ear.  
"Where would you prefer to talk?"  
"If you don't mind, I have a... friends... residence he said we could use. My current lodgings are not really proper for talking." Not a lie, not entirely.  
"Whatever you prefer." Saira told her emotionless.  
"Yes. Well, let's go then." Eve told her, walking onwards, her mother following closely and silently behind.  
Eve thought about how she might have her mother, her real mother not this Tranquil shadow of a woman trailing behind her, for a few minutes. Be able to ask her whether being like this was what she wanted, or, like she had heard from the lips of so many other mages, that she would rather be dead. Eve would give her that, the only thing she could and the thought made her sick to her stomach.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter 22

Fenris was sat on the bench in front of his hearth waiting for Eve and her mother.  
Hawke was sat at his table leafing through a book, Varric had tagged along, something Fenris was sure would raise Eve's ire, and Anders leant on the doorframe of his room, scowling, mostly in Fenris's direction. Apparently the abomination had not been happy with Eve's choice of venue and Fenris himself was not happy either, for different reasons.  
Yesterday when Eve had visited asking for his help he had not been expecting anyone, let alone her. He had been sleeping off a solitary drinking binge of epic proportions and had been in the middle of a rather lucid dream involving Eve herself, in a similar position they had found themselves in on the stone floor after their sparring match, except in his dream they had not been interrupted and he had woken up breathing raggedly and his heart pounding with lust. When he had heard near silent footsteps on the stairs, the soft breath behind the door, he had greeted the intruder with near blind rage. It wasn't until Eve had spoken and made him recognise it was her in his grasp, that he let her go and got a hold of his anger. Of course as soon as he saw her, memories of his dream overwhelmed him, so that he was quick to realise his state of undress and cover his shame of attacking her and his unadulterated, quickly growing desire of her with anger.  
Of course his anger only fuelled her rage and he was quick to apologise, especially when she told him she had been there for his help. He had not expected that, even though, fool he was quickly becoming around this woman, he had known what perturbed her.  
He had been wandering mindlessly around Hightown early evening after the Ser Varnell incident when he had seen Eve coming from the direction of the Gallows. She looked completely lost, her eyes focused on whatever thoughts plagued her, large grey orbs shining with tears. Paled and obviously dazed, he was worried for her safety, so he followed a distance behind her to make sure she didn't wander in to trouble, only to follow her to Anders clinic. He had thought her sick at first, maybe something to do with her being a Grey Warden, and his stomach twisted at the idea of her being unwell. So he listened at the door of the clinic, only to hear of Eve's mother from a voice that rarely ever trembled with sadness, but had been close to fracturing in to tears. He had felt unexpectedly pained at the fact she had gone to the healer to speak of her mother and not to him. Not that his hatred of mages was a quiet one, or that he knew anything of those made Tranquil, for such a thing was not done in the Imperium, but maybe he could have offered some comfort? Venhadis, who was he fooling but himself! He could offer as much comfort as a stone. Still, she should have gone to Hawke instead of Anders. Maybe the Wardens were closer than Eve cared to admit. That idea filled him with fury and he had quickly left after she had asked the mage if she could stay a while before returning to the Hanged Man, he didn't want to know whether they had continued to talk or... more.  
Now here he was, with one mage, a dwarf and an abomination waiting for what Fenris knew would end badly. Anything to do with Anders and that twisted spirit of Justice always did.

"Stop growling, broody, it's putting me off my writing." Varric spoke, breaking Fenris from his increasing discomfort. He had not realised he was growling.  
"I always said he was more beast than man." Anders commented harshly.  
"You forget this is my home, mage." Fenris spat in his direction.  
"You forget Eve asked me to help before she had the not so bright idea of using this tip."  
"Enough!" Hawke told them both sternly, closing the book in front of him with a resounding bang. "She'll be here soon and has enough to deal with without you two at each other's throats."  
"Of course." Fenris relented, tearing his eyes away from Anders.  
"She's been a long time. Do you think she had trouble with the Templars? Maybe her mother didn't want to come?" Anders rattled off worriedly. "If anything had happened to her I'll..."  
"Stop worrying, Blondie." Varric told him gently. "Deadly can take care of herself."  
Fenris nodded at the dwarf's words, though he wasn't entirely convinced. In normal circumstances she was a concise and conscienceless dealer in death, but her mother was a weak spot. A distraction to make her hesitate. Something Fenris found hard to understand or comprehend since he had no memories of a mother or would ever likely meet his if he had one. Family seemed to be a great weakness. He wasn't sure if he was glad about his lack of one or not. At least if his was as awful as Eve's he wasn't haunted by it.

More minutes went by in uncomfortable silence until he finally heard the front door open and the murmur of voices before Eve's decadent voice called up.  
"Can you come down?" She asked loudly. "All of you."  
"She's not going to like that you're here, Varric." Hawke mumbled as he got up from his seat.  
"She hasn't got a choice. Besides if it goes to shit like the last time she and Justice got together you'll need me. Plus I like Deadly and this is going to be tough for her, no matter what the outcome is and no matter how much she pretends otherwise." Varric replied, steadfast in his opinion.  
Anders was first down the stairs and in to the hall, followed by Fenris then Hawke and Varric.  
Eve looked stoic as usual standing in the centre of the room beside the woman that was her mother, her face a mask hiding whatever emotions broiled underneath, but Fenris saw the anxiousness in her watery grey eyes and the tightness of her mouth. She was worried it would all go to the Void. She was right to be.  
"Saira," she introduced the woman, "these are my friends."  
Eve's mother, Saira, looked very much like Eve, but the older woman was smaller boned and shorter. Her eyes a sharp blue to Eve's clear grey and of course an imposing sunburst on her forehead.  
"You did not mention we would have company." Saira spoke in a deadened voice.  
"I know." Eve told her, "but I wasn't sure if you would come."  
"It is of no importance to me. You wished to speak to me because you are my daughter, whether we are alone or not makes no difference."  
"Would you like to sit?" Eve motioned to a stone bench near the bottom of the stairs.  
"Only if you require me to." Saira replied looking only at her daughter, not at all bothered by the four men standing at the edge of the hall.  
"No. I suppose not." Eve replied, looking up and catching Fenris's eye for just a moment before sighing and turning to Anders.  
"Anders?"  
The mage nodded and walked over. "Hello, Saira. My name is Anders."  
She looked at him with a blank face and said nothing.  
He turned to Eve and spoke in a hushed voice. "Are you ready? Justice is fully behind you in this and I have control over him."  
Fenris fought a scoff. The day the mage controlled the fade spirit was the day he declared himself a dwarf.  
"Go ahead," she told him, her hands clenching in to fists, over and over.

Anders glowed that iridescent blue of the fade, eyes lighting up, his skin cracking like worn stone. His back bent and arms went wide as Justice took over the body he shared.  
Eve turned to her mother who had not moved, had not spoken, had shown no fear or any emotion. "Saira? Mother?"  
"Eve..." Her voice was still so dead. "What?" Her blue eyes flashed with confusion and she looked at Justice, her eyebrows drawn in question, back to Eve, "Oh Maker!" She wailed, no longer effected by the brand on her forehead, falling to her knees. Eve fell with her, her face concerned. "My daughter! My bairn!" She reached out to Eve, clinging to her, tears falling free. Eve clung back, though she was silent, her eyes resisting the tears Fenris could see. Saira touched her daughters face reverently. "They told me you were dead."  
"They told me the same about you." Eve admitted, he voice rough and breaking.  
"I didn't know they had lied! How could they do such a thing! Where did they take you my darling? To the Chantry?"  
"No," Eve's voice finally broke with the tears that fell glistening down her cheeks making the kohl she wore streak her face. "He took me. Back to Fereldan."  
"Maker no!" Saira screamed. Raw emotions of hate and rage, pure agony. Fenris wondered if he should be spectator to such a private thing.  
"It's okay, mother." Eve told her, "You did not know."  
Saira lifted her daughters chin with a delicate hand. "You have his eyes." Her tears had stopped now, her voice gone emotionless. "I could never forget those eyes. Hard. Cold. Cruel."  
"It's fine now, he's dead."  
"He will never die." Saira stood. Fenris felt the atmosphere of the room change, thicken. His stomach knotted in apprehension of something terrible about to happen. He saw Justice move ever so slightly. The spirit sensed it too.  
"I was only a child." Saira continued, standing over Eve who seemed to have lost all strength. "I came to the Circle when I was thirteen. He raped me a week later and almost every night thereafter. He beat me, scarred me, tortured me. No one did a thing, they all pretended it wasn't going on even when they saw me bloody and bruised or heard me screaming. He loved to make me scream."  
"I'm sorry." Eve choked out, eyes wide in horror.  
"They only sent me away to Kirkwall when my stomach swelled with you. I was safe, you saved me from him. I was allowed to choose your name. Evensong for the evening songs that drifted from the Chantry here. The beautiful song for my beautiful daughter who took the fear of the night away. They told me you died not long after they took you from my arms, but he stole you away like he stole everything from me. It said he would be dealt with..." Her voice started to deepen. Fenris saw the slight change of her body, growing, swelling. "I made a DEAL!" Saira roared, beastial, savage, a whirlwind of energy twisted around her.

Fenris rushed forward, pulling Eve away from her mother, knowing that what was now standing in her place was no longer the woman who had birthed her. Eve quickly seemed to gather her bearings, leaping to her feet, wiping her face of tears, pulling her sword from her back.  
"I have waited many years to collect on this trade." An abomination that had once been Saira growled. Eve's mothers face was split, tumour like growths sprouting from between its eyes, twisted limbs in torn and ragged robes. It turned to Justice, "It seems I owe you thanks, spirit, for opening the way for a deal once made in fear."  
"You are not welcome here demon!" Justice bellowed in the voice a mix of Anders and something deep and otherworldly.  
"Fear never is, but it always prevails." The abominations arm shot out in Justices direction, energy rippling from its outstretched hand to send Justice sprawling in to the wall close to where Varric and Hawke stood with their weapons to hand. Fenris saw the blue light fade from Anders where he now lay still.  
It turned to Eve, "And you, daughter of Saira and the wicked Templar. Your fear is palpable," it licked its broken, swollen lips lecherously. "A sweet liquor ready for me to drink from."  
"What have you done with my mother, you fucker?" Eve demanded.  
"She was told you were dead. She went mad with fear, fear she would be returned to the hands of your father. She asked to be saved from him. But they made her Tranquil. Her spirit was lost to me for so long. Until now."  
"You are going to die." She snarled.  
Fenris held his sword in his steely grip, ready to face whatever this thing threw at them.  
"So sure, yet so fearful," it swept out its arm, a thick cloud enveloped the room. Fenris could barely breathe, his eyes burned, his chest tightened. He had no choice but to fall to the floor where the air was clearer, coughing and spluttering on the foul smog. He could just about see that Eve still stood, the abomination shuffling closer to her.  
"She said she went mad with grief for you, but she lied." It said mockingly. "She only cared for herself, feared the horrors at your father's hands would restart. She didn't care you were dead - and you were very much dead, little Evensong. She asked for your father to turn his gaze from her, so I did, to something else. Someone else. I bought you back from the Abyss. Whispered in your sleeping fathers ear to make him want you instead of her and then she would let me have my hold in this world. Fear is such a wonderful tool. It was a shame those Templars stalled my plans. But fateful luck that found you with the abilities to bring me here."  
"You won't get far," Fenris heard Eve choke out, "I will stop you."  
"No. You won't. You have so much fear. You hide it, oh yes you hide it well, in anger and violence, in your primal act of 'fucking'. Anything to forget the fear of your loneliness, your premature death. You fear no one will ever love you in return. You fear the darkness because it reminds you of your father. You fear your scars, how they repulse those around you. No, you won't kill me, fear has weighed down your limbs and I will have you, all of you!"  
"You... stupid fuck..." Eve coughed deeply, breath wheezing. "I might not have the strength to kill you... But they do!"  
The world vibrated around Fenris, a clap of thunder boomed around him, the air thinning, clearing. He stood quickly, breathing heavily, wiping his streaming eyes. Eve had collapsed to the floor, taking in mouthfuls of air, the abominations contorted face baring sharp uneven teeth and reaching for her with a clawed arm. Without thinking, Fenris brought down his sword and cleaved the creatures arm from its body before it could touch her. It roared in pain, a bolt whistled past him and buried itself in one of the monsters eyes. A bolt of lightning hit it in the chest; Fenris could see Anders, no longer possessed by Justice and conscious, sending healing magic out to all of them. Fenris could feel his energy returning, his breathing becoming normal.  
"Piece of nugshit!" Varric called, "Fear this!" Another bolt was sent through the air.  
The room descended in to chaos. The abomination roaring and hiding behind the shades that sprang from nowhere, screeching and screaming at them.

By the time they were dealt with everyone turned their attention back to the abomination who was now skewered on Eve's long sword.  
"You may have defeated me, Evensong, but your fear will kill you as surely as I." It groaned pitifully before collapsing and sliding with a sickening noise off of her sword to the floor.  
Eve stood there silent, staring at the thing that was once her mother.  
Fenris didn't know what to say. He was thinking mostly 'no mage can be trusted', but Eve probably knew that, especially now.  
"Eve?" Hawke walked slowly towards her from the other side of the room. "Are you alright?"  
She didn't turn to him, didn't reply, she just stood looking at the abomination as if it held all the answers.  
"Eve?" Fenris tried instead, stepping towards her. She was just out of arms reach. Silence. "Eve!" He demanded in a loud voice, "Snap out of it!"  
Her head whipped up and she finally looked at him. Her grey eyes were rimmed in red, her face wet with tears. Blood had splattered her face.  
"I..." She began, but suddenly her eyes rolled back in to her head and she started to fall. Before Fenris could even process what was happening he managed to catch her before her head hit the stone.  
Anders quickly rushed over and knelt down beside them. Blue energy built in his hand and diffused through Eve's body.  
"Is she alright?" Hawke asked worriedly.  
"She's not hurt. Emotionally exhausted I'd say, especially after all... that." Anders looked around the room in distaste. "I never knew such a thing could happen."  
"Anything is possible with mages." Fenris grumbled. He had Eve lying in his arms as he sat on the floor. He had never seen her asleep and her face looked so much more youthful, devoid of the furrowed brow that often marred her face.  
"What should we do with her?" Varric asked, concerned.  
"We can take her to my estate," Hawke suggested, "it's not far."  
"No." Fenris said, "There is a bed here. She can stay with me until she wakes."  
"As much as I hate to say it, I agree with the elf." Anders said begrudgingly. "It's best we don't move her too far and I suspect it will look suspicious carrying her through Hightown in the middle of the day."  
Fenris couldn't care less if the healer agreed or not, he wanted to be the one to watch over her, he wanted to be sure she was alright, that when she woke would know he cared. It seemed as though she had little idea how much he, and others such as Hawke, cared for her, that she had no need to fear the loneliness the demon had spoken of.

He and Hawke carried her up the stairs with one of her arms over each of their shoulders, and placed her carefully on his bed.  
"She probably shouldn't be in her armour." Anders suggested. "But I don't think she'd be happy to discover I'd removed it from her."  
"I haven't a clue how to even start removing heavy plate like that." Hawke said, backing away from Eve.  
Fenris looked at Varric. "Hey! Don't look at me, Broody! I haven't got a death wish and Bianca would get jealous." The dwarf reasoned.  
"Your attachment to that crossbow is disturbing." Fenris told him. "Fine. I shall do it."  
"Well it's not like you haven't seen what's under it!" Varric told him. He looked at the dwarf with enough distaste to have him backing away quickly.  
"There's not much more we can do except keep her comfortable." Anders said as Fenris carefully undid the clasps and buckles of her armour as he'd seen her do several days ago. "I can come back in a couple of hours to check on her, but we had better clear up that... mess, downstairs."  
"You think the Templars will come looking for her mother?" Hawke asked.  
"She was Tranquil, so I doubt it." Anders replied. "I'll keep an ear out through my mage contacts though. Maybe we can pass a message on that Saira decided to stay with Eve instead of returning?" He suggested.  
"Fucking awful she had to see that." Varric said. "I didn't even know Tranquil could become abominations."  
"They can't, but Justice reconnected her to the fade and the fear demon she apparently made a deal with before the Rite was performed on her, took its chance after years of waiting." Anders told them.  
"I hope she'll be alright." Hawke's voice was low with sadness.  
"Would you be?" Fenris asked him harshly. She had just seen her mother turn in to an abomination and had been forced to kill it. It was not the same as asking the woman if she no longer wanted to live as a Tranquil as Eve had hoped to do.  
"No, I suppose not. But she's Eve, she's always been okay." He defended.  
'And yet if what the demon said was true, it's all just a facade' Fenris thought, removing the last pieces of armour and padding so she was just in the leggings and shirt she wore underneath and pulled a soft wool blanket over her to stop her from catching a chill in the cool room.  
"I'll be back soon." Anders told him, turning to leave.  
"Don't worry about the mess downstairs, Broody, we'll sort it out. Just make sure you're here when she wakes up." Varric patted his shoulder awkwardly and followed behind the mage.  
Hawke lent over Eve to kiss her forehead and combed back a tendril of her dark hair. "I'll be back later." He said to them both and left looking sad and deflated, closing the door behind him.

Fenris pulled a chair to sit close to the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. Occasionally she would frown or move restlessly, an unclear murmur escaping her lips. But he sat and waited, wanting nothing more than to see those stark grey eyes again, to tell her she didn't need to feel alone.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

I'm glad my previous chapter was so well received, getting such lovely reviews makes my day! Thank you to those that take the time to read, review, follow and favourite.  
OoW

Chapter 23

She hated to sleep. Sleep meant dreams, dreams that tormented, horrified, and sickened her. So Eve rarely slept, famed Grey Warden stamina helped with that requirement and she could go a couple of days without even a nap. But she was asleep now, her dreams twisting around her, the grinning faces of darkspawn pressed against her, her ears filled with their guttural moans and wordless chatter. Their clawed hands pulled her along the depths of the Deep Roads, the smell of the fetid beasts around her tainting the caverns. They stopped, pushed her to her knees, barking laughter surrounded her and she looked up, though the fear she felt in her gut and the air around her made her want to claw out her eyes. An ogre stood before her, slavering, blood dripping from its thick fingers. She looked up in to its face to see her father staring back at her. Cold, hard, grey eyes, heavy black brows and thin grey hair hanging greasily over his high forehead; his thin lips were pulled back in a snarl, ragged teeth black with blood. She cried out and tried to crawl away from him, but something grabbed her leg, pulling her back, her hands scrambling uselessly on the slick cavern floor. She turned and saw what held her, Alistair, but not quite, a darkspawn version of him, who grinned as he pulled her towards him. Eve still fought the hulking mass though it was futile, he flipped her on to her back, staring down at her, rotted skin and bloody eyes, he stepped over her body to sit at her head, holding her hands above her in his crushing grip. She struggled, she couldn't help herself, she would die fighting. She would never stop fighting. A howl rose among the beasts including the two that wore her fathers face, Alistair's face, and she looked forward as much as she could to see a new creature approach. Stark white hair matted with blood and flesh, golden skin pale and blackened with taint and once large green eyes now milky grey with corruption.  
"No!" She cried as the tainted ghoul of Fenris stood above her, foul blood dripping from between his lips. He - it - grabbed her face with dexterous fingers, painfully forcing her jaw apart. She tried to shake him off, kick her legs to free herself, but with the thing that looked like Alistair holding her arms and Fenris leering over her she was trapped.  
"NO!" She screamed this time, the word mutilated by the forced position of her mouth. Putrid blood poured from Fenris's mouth in to her own, choking her, sickening her, changing her.  
They let her go suddenly as she rolled over heaving and vomiting the thick rancid blood that coated her mouth, but it was too late. She felt her body changing, swelling, splitting, growing. A pool of black glassy liquid was puddled at her feet. She looked down to see her abomination mother looking back at her, laughing with dead blue eyes.  
She screamed.

She woke screaming. Being shaken violently, her bearings skewed. The bed under her softer and warmer than her own, the smell of wine in the air, hands on her shoulders, shaking, but to her they felt like she was being held down. The dream not fully evaporated in to reality. She flailed wildly, her hand connecting with something firm.  
"Fasta vass!" She heard the Tevene curse she had become so familiar with of late and forced her eyes to focus on her current surroundings and not the ghostly memories of her dream.  
"Fenris?" She croaked, realising how dry and parched her throat was. She ran a stale tongue over cracked lips.  
"I am here." He spoke rising from the floor. "You have quite the punch."  
Memories of what had happened with her mother started to return to her. How she had turned in to that abomination of fear, casting an entropic cloud that slowly tried to suffocate them all, how it had told her of the deal Saira had made to save herself from Eve's father, not realising Eve would be the tool to save her. How she had cleansed the area of magic so the others could kill it. She would have smited the creature but it had been draining her stamina.  
After that it was truly a daze, a confused memory of screams, blood and blue eyes. She remembered impaling the abomination on her sword, watching it slide off in to a pile of split flesh. Then... nothing.  
"Shit. Please tell me I didn't pass out?" She pleaded pointlessly, knowing the truth since she now found herself in bed, Fenris's bed no less.  
"You have been asleep for many hours. A fitful rest at best. You started screaming, I was forced to wake you." He told her. She looked at him, his white clean hair, golden skin, clear green eyes, completely untainted, nothing like dream Fenris.  
"I'm glad you did." She told him, looking away after he seemed perplexed at her intense look. "I don't normally sleep that long."  
"Nightmares?"  
"Yes. Ever since becoming a Grey Warden. Used to scare the shit out of everyone when we camped. It's always worse for those who join during a Blight."  
"You do see darkspawn then?"  
She nodded. "Amongst other things." She looked at him again. He wasn't a ghoul, it was all a dream. "Can I have a drink? I'm really thirsty."  
"Of course." He fetched her a cup of water it looked like he had prepared ready for her. She drank it greedily.  
"Thank you. And thank you for letting me stay here. I hope I wasn't too much of a burden." She told him, handing the empty cup back.  
"I was glad to help you." He said sitting beside her. "And I am... sorry... about your mother."  
"She was a fool." She replied sharply.  
"I am of a mind to agree. However," Fenris looked at her with drowning eyes, "if she had not been such a fool you would still be dead."  
"Maybe that would have been better." She looked away from his gaze. It was a terrible thing to say and she hated feeling sorry for herself, but if Saira - she couldn't bear to call her mother right now - had not been so desperately foolish, then Eve would not have been brought back from death. Would not have been 'raised' by her bastard of a father, been framed for murder as a mercenary, conscripted to the Grey Wardens and sentenced to a short life filled with risk and nightmares. She would never have fallen in love like a deluded chit then had her heart broken. Let a woman birth a God in fear of death. Run away to Kirkwall to be nothing but a problem causing sell sword. She'd left only a trail of death in her wake.  
"Do not say that. Never say that. You do not let anyone pity you, so do not pity yourself." His voice was stern and she was drawn to look at him.  
"I bring nothing but death to those around me." She told him unable to tear herself away from his eyes. Her decision to fix Saira had resulted in a terrible death. A haunting death. Why hadn't Eve just let her be? "She would still be alive now if I hadn't tried to connect her to the Fade. I wanted her back, I wanted to save her, instead she became a monster who I was forced to slay." She choked out. Fuck, she couldn't cry, not here, not in front of Fenris.  
"You could never have known such a thing would happen." He told her.  
"I should have done. Nothing ever goes right. I thought I could link to something in my past that wasn't horrible, find a mother who once wanted me. Find out something about myself in her. But all she ever cared about was herself, she didn't care for the consequences of her deal with a demon. She succumbed to fear. A demon brought me back from death in exchange for her body. And what did I become? What am I now, Fenris? Nothing but Grey Warden who cannot even call herself such, but will still suffer the same fate as those that do. I have no purpose anymore. I shouldn't even be here."  
"Then find purpose. But do not wish yourself dead. I for one know the world would be a worse place without you in it."  
"Oh? Because I killed a tainted dragon." Always about that Archdemon. Her worth had become solely about that.  
"No. Because you survived and for whatever reasons, came to Kirkwall and gave me the opportunity to meet you."  
"If you're trying to make me feel better it's definitely working." She gave him a small smile, his words were unexpected but definitely not unwelcome.  
"Now you are fishing for compliments." He chuckled lightly.  
"Only if you mean them."  
"I wouldn't give them otherwise."  
Her stomach rumbled loudly. "Sorry."  
"The ma... Anders, he came by to check on you earlier. He told me you would need to eat when you woke." Fenris picked up a basket from the table, "So I made him purchase foods for you."  
"You didn't?" She couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Fenris ordering Anders off on shopping errands.  
"I did," he placed the basket in her lap. "He is more amiable to direction when you are involved."  
"Probably because I was his Commander for several months." She opened the basket finding an array of mouth-watering foods.  
"Perhaps." Fenris looked unconvinced.  
She picked out a shiny red apple and passed it to the elf. "Here. Don't tell me you're not hungry or you don't want it, I see you eyeing up the apple stall in the market every time you pass it."  
"Thank you." He smiled at her warmly, "I am rather partial to them." He told her before crunching in to the juicy fruit. Eve couldn't help but smile back, and then, when a drop of juice dribbled down his chin, fought the desire to lick it from him.  
She distracted herself with food. "Ooh, rye bread... and cheese, oh, he picked up honey biscuits too, I love these!"  
She took out the parchment wrapped treats, popping a crumbly disk of sweetness in her mouth, followed quickly by several more before fishing out a bottle of wine tucked underneath it all.  
Fenris was quick to take the bottle from her and pull the cork himself before offering it back. She took a long drink.  
"Not bad, considering Anders got it." She passed it to Fenris who after a taste nodded in agreement.  
She put back the remaining biscuits before making a start on the heavy bread alternating with bites of the strong cheese. She still couldn't eat cheese without thinking of Alistair.

"There's another apple if you would like it?" She offered him after sating her ravenous hunger.  
"I think you need it more than I." He told her, an amused look on his face, apparently she had been shovelling food down her throat in a most unladylike fashion.  
"This is why I never eat in front of non-Wardens." She grumbled, embarrassed.  
"Many of you together must be quite a sight." He chuckled.  
"I suppose so." She took the apple for herself. She wasn't going to let it go to waste.  
She bit in to the waxy flesh and sighed at the sweetness of the fruit on her tongue. There was nothing like good food to help banish away the lingering sadness of a terrible day and fear filled dreams. She had never been one of those people that lost their appetite when upset, she seemed more likely to suffer the opposite.  
"I should leave you alone now." Eve said after licking her lips and fingertips dry of the sticky remnants of apple. "I've been enough trouble already." She moved the basket now filled only with crumbs and apple cores to the floor. "And I need to deal with that... mess... down in the hall."  
"It has been dealt with." Fenris told her, not moving from his place next to her.  
"How? What did you with her, it?"  
"Hawke cremated her remains."  
Sensible she supposed. "The ashes?" She asked.  
"He kept them for you. Varric put them in an urn for you to do with as your see fit. It's at the Hanged Man with him."  
That was considerate, though Eve didn't know what to do with them.  
"I don't know what to feel about her." She admitted. "I feel angry over what she did and what she became. I don't know if I should feel sad for her or guilty for her death."  
"You don't have to feel anything. She was your mother, but you never knew her as such. You have a right to anger. There is no need to feel guilty over what you do or do not feel." He told her.  
"At least she has escaped Tranquility. Though, if she made a deal with a demon of fear I suppose it wasn't done to her without merit." She sighed.  
"True enough."  
"But I should still go. I've taken enough of your time." She swung her legs off the bed. Wait, she had armour on before didn't she? What in the Void? She looked accusingly at Fenris, whose pointed ears started to burn red as he realised what she was thinking.  
"Anders suggested your armour should be removed." He told her meekly.  
"Anders undressed me?" Was her voice starting to pitch in anxiety?  
"No, he thought you may not be pleased about that. I can't say I liked the idea much either, so I volunteered."  
Now Eve burned with embarrassment. At least she was still in her undershirt and leggings. It was not like Fenris hadn't seen her, or touched her, in such garments.  
"You are not embarrassed are you?" He asked with a knowing smile on his face.  
"No." She replied impetuously. "Why would that embarrass me?"  
"Ah, so you only turn that becoming shade of red when you are not embarrassed then?" He continued to smile and raise those dark eyebrows of his in disbelief.  
"I don't blush!"  
"Of course not."  
"I'm going now." She told him a little angrily. Why was he getting under her skin like this? Who cared if he had undressed her while she was passed out, it's not like he'd undressed her to her underthings!  
"No." Fenris told her. "You should stay here and rest, at least till sunrise. It is only a few hours away."  
"There's no point, it's not like I'll sleep." She told him.  
"I have no problem with that."  
"Oh, don't pretend you don't want to sleep yourself."  
"I am used to going without sleep, though unlike you and your 'Grey Warden stamina', I was trained under Danarius to be able to go many days without sleep. Even when I did it was not restful. Now though I often only use meditation to feel rested."  
"Meditation?"  
"Yes. When I first escaped Danarius, though truthfully I was left behind when an attack against the Qunari in Seheron did not go to plan, I was taken in by the Fog Warriors. I spent many months with them as they shared their knowledge with me of the Qun, fighting techniques and meditation. I enjoyed my time with them."  
"Why did you leave?"  
"Danarius came back. He was not pleased to see me living comfortably among the Fog Warriors. He ordered me to return to him... and to kill them." He bowed his head and looked away. "I could not disobey him. It was as if the months away from him had never happened and I killed them all. I will forever feel guilt over my weakness to Danarius, but the reigns of slavery are hard to break."  
"But you did break them, eventually. You are here now."  
"I am." He looked at her with searching eyes. "Why are you not more shocked at what I did to the Fog Warriors? When I told Hawke he was loathe to believe I could do such a thing under the command of a man I hate so vehemently."  
"Because I understand that life with Danarius is all you knew, the need to obey him ingrained since your first memories. It was the same with my father. You think I taught myself how to fight? No, he taught me so I could protect him if his deals with lyrium smugglers went bad. I never killed for him, but he found it amusing that they never expected the skinny girl who followed him around could best those that tried to carve a larger amount of coin from him. I had enough skills that I could have escaped before he died from a fever, or killed him myself, but he was all I knew and disobeying him was more pain than I thought freedom was worth." Maker how she still fucking hated that man and to know Saira had made a deal with that demon of fear and caused her to be subjected to all that she had been, she really couldn't feel anything but anger at her right now. It drowned out her sadness and guilt.  
"We appear to be quite the pair." Fenris commented after a few moments of silent contemplation. "It is... good... to speak to someone about the darker parts of my life without judgement." He told her.  
She gave him a smile. "I don't normally share so much of my past with a person, except..." Except Alistair. Alistair had known it all, back when she relished the apologies that spilled from his lips and his comforting touches. Back when the need to cry from the memories overwhelmed her.  
"... Except for a few." She told him. She still didn't know what compelled her to share so much with this man whom she had known for barely a few weeks. Maybe it was the fact he too didn't judge, save for mages of course, and that he also didn't pity her, wouldn't dream of it. Maybe because he had gone through worse and what she told him was nowhere near to what he had suffered. But he too didn't seek comfort when he shared tales of his past; he hated being pitied just like she did. She liked him, she really did, and desired him ferociously.

"I should leave you to whatever is left of the night." She insisted ater a few moments of comfortable silence.  
"You are an incredibly stubborn woman. You will stay here." Fenris told her with a growl.  
"But... I... Ugh, fine." She sighed, annoyed she couldn't think of a plausible reason not to stay. Besides, it was quieter here than her room in the Hanged Man, smelt better too, and the company certainly wasn't bad.  
"But, if it helps, I have more wine?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.  
"Wine always helps, and I do believe I did offer my help in depleting the stock!" She laughed.  
He fetched a bottle from the table top, already uncorked. They didn't use cups, it had become something of a tradition not to.  
"You know what I can't believe about today?" Eve said after a few moments of silence.  
"Other than the fact it didn't go to plan?" He answered dryly.  
"Fenris, it never goes to plan. Ever."  
"Hmm, truer words were never said." He agreed with a slight smile.  
"Anyway, what I really can't believe is that she named me Evensong! Evensong! I mean, really? At least I owe my father one thing, he called me Eve instead." She shook her head. "I don't even look like someone who would be called Evensong! I don't even consider myself very religious, being named after a Chantry song of prayer is just... weird."  
"I think it is quite a... lovely name." He told her with a coy look beneath his heavy fringe.  
"Exactly. It doesn't suit me at all. Evensong the Warden? Evensong the Warrior? Bah, sounds like a bad song a bard would sing to invite raucous laughter!" It was bad enough there was an 'Ode to the Hero of Fereldan', where Eve apparently felled her enemies just by a glance of her 'Berserker beauty'! She wished, would have made things a lot easier. She still reckoned Leliana had written that particular piece.  
"I think it suits you." Fenris interrupted her thoughts.  
"Now you're making fun of me."  
"Not at all."  
She smiled at him as they shared the wine. He was teasing her of course. It was an awful name.  
"I'm still annoyed we got interrupted the other morning." She admitted quietly after a while. "Not that I'm hinting at anything, just, I thought you should know." Maybe it was pointless mentioning it. Fenris could have already changed his mind about her, especially ater today, or rather yesterday now.  
"I think Hawke was worried you were going to injure him rather severely." Fenris smirked.  
"He has bloody awful timing." But she had already forgiven Garrett, he had helped with her mother without question. Anders too. She still wasn't entirely happy with Justice though.  
"So you are not," he coughed uncomfortably, "relieved it went no further?"  
"Are you?" She shot back.  
"No, but, this," Fenris waved his hand at her, "is new to me. All the memories I have are of a slave and slaves are not permitted to... seek partners of their choosing."  
"Oh." Shit. She was a fool to think he had experience like she did. "But you've been free for some years, does that mean you never...? While you've been free?"  
"Certainly there were offers, but I was running for my life. I could not spare the time for such dalliances, nor did I want to be with anyone whom I couldn't trust not to betray me for coin." He told her. She noticed how he shifted uncomfortably speaking about his lack of bed partners.  
"I didn't realise. You've never given me reason to think you hadn't been with anyone like that." No, he had been exceptionally talented at making her writhe with pleasure.  
"I shall take that as a compliment." He smirked enticingly at her.  
"It's definitely that." She smiled in return, her heart beating a little quicker.  
"So you would like to... continue where we left off, at some point? Preferably when there is no chance of disruption?"  
She licked her lips at the idea of picking up where they'd been interrupted. "Yes, most definitely."  
"Good." He sipped at the fast depleting wine, his eyes locked on hers.  
Of course now he'd put the idea in Eve's head she found it hard to think about anything else. Especially since she was on his bed. With him.  
"Um, so, let's play cards, shall we? I'll teach you how to beat Isabela and Varric if you like?" She said trying to diffuse the sexual tension that was thick in the room.  
"I would like that. And I'm sure Anders will be here soon to check on his patient." He rose to find a set of cards. "He will be pleased to find you well."  
"Takes more than a long lost parent turned abomination to better me!" She tried to jest though her heart wasn't in it. She still couldn't believe she'd fainted, though, admittedly, it had been a rather upsetting and horrifying sight. She knew it would haunt her for some time.  
Fenris settled down next to her with a set of worn cards which he handed over.  
"Now," she started to tell him, "The trick is not let them now you've seen the cards they've stuffed up their sleeves and keep an eye on the number of cards in circulation..."


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter 24

Eve didn't think about her mother any more than she was forced to. Anders avoided the subject when he'd checked on her at Fenris's mansion and she had appreciated that, he knew that if she wanted to talk about it she would. Garrett on the other hand prodded her about it, but she'd said all she had needed to and more with Fenris. Garrett had admitted hurt that Eve had never told him of her mother, and yes she felt a little guilty over it, maybe she should have shared that with him, but that was what she did, she buried things, tucked them in forgotten corners of her mind and pretended they weren't there. She would be the first to admit it didn't always work very well, she had always been quick to anger, but since training to channel her anger as a Berserker, becoming a Grey Warden, and not forgetting Alistair, it was so much worse, often unbearable, and she used sex and occasionally alcohol to numb it out. It wasn't healthy, but she didn't care, it was better than crying about it.

Now Eve found herself thinking on the only thing she knew would dampen out this anger, curb this hungry desire. Fenris. But there had been no chance to be alone with the the elf and she was currently a walking mass of unresolved sexual tension and it was turning her in to a growling snarling monster.  
She was stomping through the Gallows dungeons with Garrett, who kept checking she was alright - was it so wrong to scream obscenities at every enemy they came across? No! - Sebastian who kept giving her concerned and fearful glances from time to time and Anders, who was so edgy he was uncharacteristically silent.

They had to fight their way through lyrium smugglers before the group of Templars led by Ser Alrik. Pompous zealot of a twit was forcing some slip of a girl in to Tranquility. He and the others didn't take long to die, though Ser Alrik was spouting anti-mage obscenities till his last. Unfortunately Anders, fuelled by Justice and rage ended up turning on the very thing they were trying to protect.  
"Every one of them will feel Justice's burn!" Anders roared under Justices control.  
"No! Demon!" The girl screamed, backing up against a wall of stone with no where to go.  
"What are you to call me such?" Justice turned to the girl. "Are you one of them?"  
"Justice calm down!" Garrett demanded, his eyes wide in shock. "She's just a girl!"  
"I am not Justice!" He roared, "I am Vengeance! Vengeance for every woman, man and child taken away from their families and brutalised!'  
"Stop this!" Eve stepped forwards, closer to Anders, "Anders, control yourself or you'll force my hand!" She ordered. "She is just an innocent girl! She is what you're trying to protect!"  
"No one is innocent! I can feel their hold on her! She is just a puppet for the Templars!" He closed in on the mage, his staff held threateningly above the girl who cowered and cried loudly.  
"Anders, you're in there somewhere, you don't want to do this! You would never hurt an innocent!" Garrett cried out.  
Eve had her sword in her hand, advancing slowly towards Justice, she would take him down if she had to.  
Justice, or rather, Vengeance, raised Anders staff, the girl screamed, Eve rushed forward with a cry of 'stop' on her lips, barrelling in to the healer and knocking him to the floor.

When she looked at him he was no longer possessed by Justice, or Vengeance, or whatever the spirit had become, and was wide eyed in absolute horror.  
"I... I..." He stammered looking around. "Oh Maker, I almost killed her. If you hadn't..." He looked at Eve.  
"But you didn't."  
He scrambled to his feet. "I have to go... I have to..." He looked at the girl still crying and ran off.  
"Shit." Eve said harshly. "Shit. Shit. Fuck!"  
"That went well." Garrett remarked sarcastically. "What was that anyway? I've never seen Justice so... angry. Except maybe with you."  
"I don't think that was Justice. It called itself Vengeance." Eve said.  
Garrett stepped towards the girl. "Are you alright?" He asked softly.  
"Oh, Messere! What was that thing?" She asked in a quavering voice.  
"A bloody fool." Eve said under her breath, earning an unimpressed look from Garrett.  
"A... confused friend." He told her. "Why were you down here anyway? It's not safe."  
"I was going to visit my mother. I miss her so much, but they wouldn't let me go, so I sneaked off..." The girl rattled off.  
"That's a pretty foolish thing to do." Eve told her. "You're a mage from the Circle, they can track you. You were lucky we were down here at all else you'd be bloody Tranquil by now!" Or dead if Anders hadn't gotten control of the spirit.  
"Not helping." Garrett told her quietly.  
"True though." Sebastian whispered standing by Eve's side.  
"I'm sorry, Messere. I know that now." The girl hung her head.  
"What shall I do? Can I go back? I could stay at my mothers."  
"Go back to the Circle." Eve told her. "They have your phylactery. They'll find you and punish anyone that tries to help you. At least Ser Alrik and his followers won't be bothering you with the Rite of Tranquillity anymore."  
"You're right I suppose." She replied, head hung. "I'll return now. Thank you, all of you." She rushed off down one of the tunnels to take her back to the Circle.  
"It doesn't feel right making mages return to the Circle when I'm free of it." Garrett complained.  
"She's young, untrained, full of fear and doesn't know what she's doing. If we let her go she'd be back within a week and punished, or find she is unable to control her powers and end up possessed or dead." Eve told him frankly, though Garrett did not look at all convinced.  
"Makers breath, Eve, aren't you a ball of sunshine today." He sighed wearily. "Are you ok? You've been very, um, violent. Is it about your mother? Do you want to talk about it?"  
"For the hundredth time, I'm fine!" She nearly screamed. "And no, I don't want to talk about her." She just really needed to get a certain elf alone behind a locked door, forget about the world and just fuck. "Let's just look for evidence of the Tranquil Solution Anders has heard rumours about so this wasn't a waste of time."  
They all searched the bodies in silence.

"I think I may have found something," Sebastian announced in his thick Starkhaven brogue.  
"Let's see," Garrett approached him and looked over the note the Chantry brother had found. "Looks like Ser Alrik was trying to get all mages turned Tranquil, but the Grand Cleric and Meredith disagreed with it. It seems that what he's been doing was not known by the Chantry or the Knight-Commander."  
"I told Anders that Elthina would never agree to such a thing." Sebastian said a little too self-righteously.  
"We better show this to him." Garrett said to everyone's agreement and they started to trek back from where they entered the tunnels back in Darktown, luckily they were not bothered by any more lyrium smugglers or Templars.  
"So," Garrett looked at Eve and Sebastian when they were stood in Darktown. "I thought it might be better if I just speak to him alone. I have a feeling he's going to be a little upset and even though you've known him for longest, Eve, I think you might just make it worse with the mood you're in."  
"I'm quite capable of being nice." Eve told him crossing her arms indignantly.  
"I know that, but you're also likely to tell him what an idiot he's been for joining with Justice and make things worse."  
"Fine. I'm heading back to the Hanged Man then." She turned away. "Are you coming Sebastian?" She called over her shoulder.  
"Of course." He replied politely catching her up. "I shall see you later, Hawke."  
"Yes. Maybe at the Hanged Man?" Garrett called out.  
"I'll be there." She told him and gave him a small wave as way of goodbye. Where else would she be? Certainly not in Fenris's bed where she wanted to be.

Eve was in her room at the Hanged Man when Anders found her a few days later. She was sorting through some of the books she'd purchased at the market. She loved reading, devouring stories and information like tasty morsels of food. It kept her mind busy when she couldn't sleep.  
"Eve?" She heard him call beyond the door. "It's Anders. Can I come in?" He asked.  
"As long as you have reign over Justice." She replied. That bloody spirit really wasn't the one she knew, there was nothing of the Justice she knew left. It was a twisted creature of madness. Yes, he'd helped with her mother, but he'd almost killed an innocent girl, even referring to himself as Vengeance. And she had not forgotten how he'd almost choked the life out of her only weeks ago.  
Anders came in meekly, shutting the door behind him. Eve turned to face him, not bothering to hide the anger or disappointment in her eyes.  
"Before you say anything," he started, only just meeting her gaze, "I need to tell you, you were right. About Justice. It was a mistake, a huge mistake. We should never have joined as we did. My anger hasn't just changed him, it has almost entirely transformed him. Vengeance is a new form, one I didn't know existed until it had complete control in those dungeons."  
Eve shook her head. "You were a fool to think it would work, that being a host for Justice was a good idea."  
"I know. And I almost killed an innocent girl." His voice cracked with guilt.  
"Not you, Justice, or Vengeance, or whatever he's calling himself these days. You managed to get control."  
"Only just. I fought to, I knew you would have killed me otherwise."  
"If it makes you feel better I wouldn't have enjoyed doing it." She told him, anger draining away from her. Anders had made a mistake, Justice too, but Anders had never been the most sensible of individuals. She blamed Justice the most, obviously the spirit had spent time convincing Anders to fight for mages, planting the idea for Anders to be his living host. A Fade spirit should have known better. Weren't they supposed to be wise?  
"That helps a little." He cracked a smile. "I was going to leave Kirkwall, but Hawke talked me in to staying. I'm still not sure..."  
"Don't leave." She said. "You have friends here, your clinic; you help people and are safe from the Templars here. If you leave you would be on your own, you wouldn't be safe, not from Templars or darkspawn."  
"I didn't know you cared so much." He grinned.  
She rolled her eyes. "We're friends aren't we? You helped with my... with Saira. We went through all that business in Amaranthine together. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." Justice maybe, Eve thought, but not Anders.  
"Thanks. That means a lot."  
"Would you like a drink?" She offered.  
"I shouldn't, but I will, especially as I came here today expecting a lot more shouting."  
"I don't shout that much." Eve defended, grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple of cups, pouring them each a generous measure, waving him to take a seat on the bed. She really needed to get a chair for visitors.  
"You do! In fact in the dungeons I was surprised we managed to sneak up on Alrik with all your fearsome screeching!" He laughed.  
"You're exaggerating."  
"I never exaggerate!"  
She sighed in to her cup, she wasn't that bad.

"You're definitely staying in Kirkwall then?" He asked after a short silence. "I know you've been here a while already, but I wasn't sure if you'd stay, especially after that business with your mother. Kirkwall's not exactly a great place to be at the moment." He said.  
Eve was well aware of the state of the City. It was a bloody mess, a boiling pot of tensions ready to spill over at the slightest thing and descend in to bloodshed and madness.  
"It's as good a place as any. I'm limited with where I can go. I'm hidden here, there aren't any Warden outposts. I have... friends." Maker, she hadn't had such a thing for what seemed like a lifetime ago. In Amaranthine she'd never let anyone close enough to want to be a friend, she had even kept Oghren at arm's length because he was too much of a reminder of times past and was always telling stories of his time with her and the others during the Blight. Reminding her of things she wanted to forget. But here it was different. She had warmed to those who flocked around Garrett, who himself was someone from her life before the Blight, whose memories she held were not bitter or hurtful. Yes, things had not gone perfectly here, the memory of Saira would haunt her, but that did not take away the freedom she felt away from the mistakes she had made in the past, now left behind across the Waking Sea in Fereldan.  
"That's good to hear." Anders smiled at her. "And I'm glad you're not angry at me, though Justice is well aware of how you feel about him."  
"What is it like when he's in control?" Eve asked, she had wanted to know ever since she found about the two of them.  
"I am powerless. I know what's going on, can see and hear everything, even speak to him, but I can't feel anything, as if I'm just an entity, a prisoner inside my own body." He admitted.  
"That's rather... horrible." A shiver crawled up her spine at his words. A fractured memory of being in Fort Drakon before her conscription as a Grey Warden, manacled to a wall at such a severe angle her legs and arms had lost all feeling, but still able to hear the screams of other prisoners around her, see the guards in the shadows, steel glinting in the darkness, coming closer... She shook her head of the image, buried it with all the others.  
"And you can hear him? All the time?" She continued, pretending to have not been distracted by a fragmented image of the past.  
"Yes and he always seems to have something to say. Always urging me on with the plight of the mages in case I should forget such a thing." Anders gave her a wry smile.  
"Must get terribly annoying." She couldn't imagine never being able to be alone, even her thoughts laid open for interruption.  
"He helps me find purpose if I seem distracted." He sipped his drink. "He thinks you're distracting." He suddenly shut his mouth very quickly and went wide eyed as if he'd said something he shouldn't have done.  
"Hmmm, yes, getting you in to trouble and offering you alcohol. I remember you saying he didn't let you drink much anymore." She replied, guessing that's what he meant.  
"Heh, yeah, exactly!" He chuckled slightly awkwardly. "At least you're not leading me in to so much trouble as before, that's a welcome change!"  
"No, you've got Garrett for that." She smiled at him.  
"Precisely!" He grinned in return.  
He took a sip of his drink. "I wanted to ask you something, but I don't want you to take it the wrong way."  
"Go on." She told him, interest peaked.  
"Are you sure... about the elf?"  
"Elf?"  
"Fenris. Are you two serious?"  
Eve sighed in annoyance. She knew he and Fenris were open about their dislike of each other, annoyingly so, but it wasn't any of Anders concern. "It's not really anyone's business." She told him.  
"You need to be careful of him. He can be more animal than man. He will hurt you, he can't control himself."  
She scoffed. "Are you really in a position to judge those that aren't always in control of themselves?" At least he had the decency to look a little ashamed. "Besides, I can look after myself and if anyone should know what it's like to be consumed by the need of violence, it's me."  
"You're not like him!" He declared aghast.  
No, she wasn't like him. Fenris had a reason to be angry at the world. Years as a slave, memories erased, to have suffered at the hands of his master, to be hunted. His anger and hatred had been forced upon him. But Eve's, hers stemmed from mistakes she had made, her weaknesses. No, they were not alike at all.  
"It's nothing for you, or anyone else, to worry about. It's nothing serious. When have you known me to want serious?" She told him.  
"The Warden King, you and he..." He started.  
"No!" She interrupted angrily. "I don't want to talk about it!"  
"I'm sorry. I know you're still hurting from him. That's why I don't want that elf to hurt you."  
"He won't. It's just a... distraction."  
"A distraction from what exactly?" He asked concerned.  
Life. Death. Alistair. Emptiness. Loneliness. Everything. Fenris was a distraction from it all, he let her forget.  
"It doesn't matter, Anders."  
He sighed. "If you insist." He relented unhappily.  
"I really do." She told him sternly, coldly.  
"Just know that I'm here for you... in whatever way you need me to be." Was he propositioning her? Shit, she hoped not. He surely just meant as a friend. Anders teased, flirted, mostly to annoy her, but he didn't mean it. "I should get going. I've got patients to see."  
"Of course." She merely nodded. "I appreciate you coming by."  
"I'm glad we could talk. I enjoy talking with you, we didn't do it all that much in Amaranthine." He smiled.  
"No, we didn't." She had been in a far worse place back then, a dark place. There was a little more light here.  
"I'll see you sooner rather than later I expect." He looked at her awkwardly, as if he were thinking of, Maker forbid, hugging her goodbye, before simply smiling and turning towards to the door.  
"See you soon, Anders." She called out as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Eve went back to her books, other than his attempts to warn her off of Fenris, it was... nice to speak with Anders. She was glad he had finally realised his mistake with Justice. Maybe he'd find a way to free himself of Justice before the spirit took control completely. She hoped for Anders sake it would never come to that because she would not hesitate to send them both to the Fade should that happen. She could not risk something as mad or damaging as Justice, or this new entity, Vengeance, being loose in Thedas. Who knew what damage could be done if that happened?


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter 25

"So, the Wounded Coast. This is fun!" Hawke commented with false lightness because it certainly was not fun. Why did he think bringing Eve, Fenris, Isabela and Varric would be a good idea? Isabela kept looking at him with a heated smirk, running her fingers lightly along the tops of her generous breasts every time he glanced at her, which had him hardening uncomfortably under his breeches, which was completely inappropriate. He'd taken Eve's advice and Isabela's offer of a night with the pirate, and he certainly hadn't been disappointed. Far from it. Now he felt a bit obsessed with acting on all the dirty suggestions Isabela often whispered in his ear at the most unsuitable times. Like during fights when she'd disappear on the battlefield only to reappear by his ear to pinch his backside and tell him something completely filthy making him instantly aroused, then bugger off to knife someone in the back. Of course after their first night she'd been clear that what they had was purely physical, that she didn't believe in love. Hawke had questioned why it couldn't be more and she had shared with him how her mother had sold her in to marriage which she escaped when her husband was murdered. She had told him that she loved someone once but she broke his heart and she would never do it again. There was no reasoning with her so Hawke just avoided bringing it up.  
They still continued to 'rut' as Isabela so crudely put it, and Hawke couldn't help but feel for her more than just something physical. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Not yet anyway.

Then there was Fenris and Eve, who said nothing to each other, walked with Hawke and the rest of the group between them, yet you could cut the tension between them with a knife. It was ridiculous, Fenris giving her heated looks almost every minute, Eve pretending she didn't see it, though Hawke knew she did. She always had a sixth sense when it came to people watching her and she looked permanently pissed off. They really needed to tell each other how they felt. It was obvious they had feelings for each other. He had never seen Fenris so concerned over anyone as he had been over Eve and that debacle with her mother and they were always sat together at the Hanged Man, sharing bottles of wine. The broody elf wasn't so amiable with anyone like he was with Eve, and more importantly, Eve let him do all those things, and smiled at him when she thought no one could see. Maker, if they just told each other Hawke knew it would make the unbearable silence more comfortable.

Finally Varric was stuck in the middle of it, smirking constantly, asking questions, making notes and just being annoying about everything. Yeah, Hawke really hadn't been thinking when he'd invited this lot to search for a lost Qunari patrol on the Wounded Coast.

"Did you hear that?" Eve suddenly stopped, grabbing Hawkes attention.  
"Hear what?" He looked towards the rocky mountainside she was staring at.  
"I swear I heard something," she shook her head. "Guess the heats getting to me." She shrugged.  
"No. I heard something too." Fenris agreed. "It came from..."  
The fall of rocks had Hawke and everyone else casting their eyes upwards to see a group of well armed men standing on a ledge above them. Slavers.  
"You are in possession of a slave from the Imperium!" One of them called out.  
"Fenris is no slave!" Hawke shouted at the man. He obviously had no idea who he was messing with.  
"Give us the slave and you can all walk away with your lives." A slaver mage shouted down ignoring Hawke.  
"How about you all just fucking die, scum!" Eve yelled ferociously back.  
"A fine idea." Fenris agreed with her, unsheathing his sword. "I will not go back to Danarius!" He shouted defiantly to the slavers, his brands already aglow with hatred for the men who threatened his freedom.  
Hawke quickly enveloped the mage nearest in a fireball rendering him powerless. The other slavers soon dropped from a barrage of blades, arrows and magic. They really had been under prepared to re-capture Fenris.  
Hawke heard the sound of one of the other mages amongst the slavers struggling to get away despite serious injuries. Fenris quickly stalked over the man, flaring with lyrium anger.  
He grabbed the slaver by his bloody robes. "Where is he?" He demanded, shaking the terrified mage. He couldn't have been much more than seventeen. "Where is Danarius?"  
"I... I dddon't know," he stuttered, "I'm here with Mistress Hadriana! She's in the holding caves to the North! I can show you..."  
Fenris growled loudly. "No need, I know where they are."  
"Please let me go? I won't tell anyone..." He pleaded.  
"No."  
"But, I had no choice, I was ordered to come here!"  
"Then you chose the wrong master." Fenris sneered at the mage, before quickly twisting his head with a sickening crunch, the dead body falling to the dirt.  
"Hadriana," he rumbled with ferocity. "I was a fool to think I could be free!"  
"Who is Hadriana?" Hawke asked, though he knew it certainly wasn't a friend from the way Fenris spat her name.  
"She is Danarius' apprentice. I knew her well. Nothing but a snivelling social climber who would sell her own children if it got her power and status." He turned away aggravated. "If she's here it is at my masters bidding. I knew he would never let me be! We must go after her, Hawke!" He sounded desperate and crazed.  
"Of course we will." Eve approached cautiously. "Won't we, Garrett?" She looked at him, no doubt in her eyes that he would do the right thing.  
"Without a doubt. Right now in fact." He told Fenris.  
"Thank you." The elf breathed in relief.  
"You know where these holding caves are?" Eve asked softly.  
"Just north of here, it is not far. We could get there in an hour at the most." Fenris confirmed.  
"Let's go." Hawke announced to everyone.  
"This is going to be so much more fun than looking for lost Qunari!" Isabela said smiling.  
"Do not underestimate the powers of the Magisters." Fenris told her angrily. "It is not something to be trivialised."  
Hawke saw Isabela roll her exotic eyes. "This lot were pretty easily dealt with, sweet thing."  
"A lure most probably so Hadriana can capture me herself."  
"We'll kill the bitch." Eve told him fiercely. "Bet even a magister can't dodge a smite." She smiled cruelly. Hawke did not like that smile, it was something she had never done before she had become a Warden. "Make sure not to smite the friendly mage alright? It really isn't very nice." He told her seriously.  
"Just stay out of range. You'll be fine."  
He wasn't convinced.

The trek up the side of Sundermount wasn't too bad if you didn't mind the continual uphill walk at Fenris's relentless pace. Varric seemed to struggle the worst, though he was adamant he didn't need any help, even if he shot Fenris some wicked looks at every loose rock he seemed to end up slipping on.  
"How much further?" Isabela panted. "I hate climbing mountains. It's too far from the sea!"  
"You did not have to come." Fenris spat back not even slightly out of breath.  
"That's gratitude for you." Varric grumbled out of the elf's earshot.  
When they finally reached the holding caves a greeting party of slavers were waiting for them but again they were quickly dispatched in a flurry of steel and blood.  
"Are you sure you wish to help me in this?" Fenris asked Hawke.  
"As if I'd let you have all the fun of killing a bunch of slavers!" Hawke grinned.  
"Hadriana is not just a slaver. She is powerful and will use blood magic." Fenris declared, he never could take a joke. "These caverns were a maze of tunnels built by slaver's to keep their newly acquired property so no one else could steal them."  
"Fun bunch." Isabela mumbled.  
"You asked for my help and we're doing this." Hawke confirmed.  
Fenris nodded before stepping in to the cavernous hole in the mountain.

Hawke could smell the history of the place. The coppery tang of blood permeated the air. Magic pressed against him, not the magic he was used to, but magic made of death and sacrifice. It was almost suffocating.  
And there were traps everywhere. Not even Varric and Isabela together could keep on top of them all, especially in the middle of a fight. Giant spiders and walking corpses seemed to be round every corner, and damn mages with their force fields. Eve called them cowards as she dispelled the magic from another and sunk her blade through his chest, and Hawke was apt to agree.  
In one room there was an alter covered in fresh blood.  
"Hadriana has been preparing." Fenris growled at the sight.  
"Do they all use blood magic?" Eve asked.  
"Any magister who wishes for power and to best their enemies, yes." He replied. "They all succumb eventually."  
"Not all of us are like that." Hawke defended. He was a mage after all, he knew the risk of blood magic far outweighed the benefits. His father had taught him well.  
"That remains to be seen." Fenris said walking on. Bitter, angry elf. Hawke knew in his heart he was a good mage, he wasn't going to turn to demons and sacrifice any of his, or anyone else's, blood to fuel his power. He knew Fenris had every reason to hate magic, but Hawke was nothing like those in Tevinter. This whole situation obviously had him worked up he was sure of it.

They came to a large room soon after that could only be described as holding cells. It was obvious they had once been used to keep many people destined for slavery. A large group of slavers was quick to attack, surrounding the group from all sides. Hawke and Varric took up a ranged position as best they could, Isabela melting in to the shadows. Eve and Fenris drew all the attention they could to them, particularly Eve who taunted with curses and sneers. She'd always had a mouth on her.  
Suddenly he heard Isabela yell out and clutch her stomach. Hawke focused all his magic on those closing in on her and rushed to her side whilst the remaining few slavers were being dealt with.  
"Are you alright?" He asked panicked, looking at the red seeping worryingly through her fingers.  
"It's just a flesh wound." She told him frowning. "I'll be fine."  
"Times like this I wish I'd bothered to learn healing." Hawke grumbled fumbling for a health potion in the bags around his waist. His fingers finally curling round one which he thrust at Isabela. "Drink this."  
"Oooh, I never say no to a drink, sweet thing!" She smiled before downing the luminous red liquid in one gulp. "Tastes like sweat and piss, but I feel much better. Thanks." She sheathed her daggers now they were clear of enemies.  
"You have to be more careful," Hawke warned, he hated the idea of anything happening to her. "You're not invincible."  
"Oh shush. I've had worse. In fact, you've impaled me on bigger things..." She winked seductively before taking off, leaving him blushing furiously.

He turned to the others; they had approached an elven girl who was obviously in distress. Tears painted her face and she was shaking.  
"Are you alright?" Eve asked, wiping blood from her sword with a cloth she kept on her belt.  
"Mistress killed papa." The girl stuttered in a high shaking voice. "Said she needed his blood to make her strong, that bad people were coming to hurt her."  
"The only bad person is her." Hawke told her soothingly.  
"She is growing desperate." Fenris said.  
"Then she'll make mistakes." Eve replied turning to Fenris. "Her first was coming to Kirkwall thinking she could capture you."  
Hawke could have sworn he saw a glimmer of something other than anger and hatred in the elf's eyes as Eve spoke.  
"Are you going to kill mistress?" The slave girl whimpered drawing everyone's attention again.  
"Yes." Fenris told her with certainty.  
"Does that mean you're my master now?" She asked.  
"No!" He yelled, horrified. "No!"  
"We can't just leave her here." Hawke said. The poor girl had no one and was as helpless as a kitten. If he sent her off with coin she was sure to get herself in trouble, too trusting and too needful of a figure to tell her what to do. "Go to Kirkwall, the big City south of here. Ask for directions to the Hawke estate and ask for Lady Amell. Say Garrett Hawke sent you." Yes, maybe he could offer her a temporary paid job, get her out of that slave mind-set, make her a bit more independent.  
"I did not think you were in the market for a slave?" Fenris spat angrily. Bloody elf always jumped to the worst conclusion.  
"I'm not." Hawke told him annoyed. "I'm going to offer her a proper paid job if she wants it. A roof over her head and hot meals."  
"I... Sorry, Hawke." At least he had the capability to look shamed at his outburst. "That is an admiral thing to do."  
"You in the habit of picking up sad, little... things, Hawke?" Isabela muttered.  
"I'm not going to just leave her to be taken advantage of." He told her.  
"Giving her some coin and sending her on her way would be decent enough of you."  
He ignored her and turned to the girl. "Go now, the way out is clear. Just be careful."  
She nodded enthusiastically, her face still wet from tears. "Oh thank you, thank you!" She said before running off.  
"She'll never make it to the estate in one piece." Varric shook his head solemnly.  
"You're too pessimistic, Varric." Hawke told him.  
"I'm a realist." He replied. Hawke couldn't help but snort at that, he'd heard some of Varric's stories, there was nothing realist about them at all.  
"We've wasted enough time. Hadriana is close." Fenris growled, heading towards the door at the other end of the room.  
"Right, yes." Hawke nodded, following the long strides of the elf.

A woman amongst an entourage of slavers awaited them round the corner of the furthest part of the abandoned slavers den. A long faced mage with cruel eyes. From the pure hatred and rage on Fenris's face there was no doubt this was Hadriana. She didn't even bother greeting them, just immediately began casting spell after spell, raising the dead, shades, giant spiders. Makers breath, he hated giant spiders! She kept them so busy that Eve couldn't even manage to get close enough to smite the woman, and only Fenris managed to strike a few glancing blows before she had her protective field up. Coward.  
Only when her mana and blood reserves were used up could they push a joint assault against her. It was over fairly quickly then, robes and staff no match to the five of them bearing a mixture of blades, arrows and magic.  
Fenris stalked over to her with menace, his lips curled in to a snarl. He grabbed her by the throat, his brands lighting up to cast the dank room in sickening blue light.  
"Don't kill me!" She begged. Hawke reckoned she'd probably never done much begging in her life.  
"Why not?" Fenris lashed out with vitriol. "You deserve no less!"  
"Because I have information you will be interested in." She choked out, blue eyes wide in hope and fear.  
"Danarius's whereabouts? I care not!" His fist tightened around her throat.  
"No. About... Your sister!" She barely had enough breath to speak.  
Fenris's brow furrowed. "I have no sister." He said, but he didn't sound convinced. Hawke knew he had no memories from before his markings, it could be true. But Hadriana was desperate, she could also be lying.  
"You do... If you let... me live... I... will tell you what... you want to know." He looked at her questioningly for a moment before he threw he to the floor.  
"Speak quickly." The elf demanded.  
Hawke couldn't help but notice the self-satisfied smirk on Hadriana's face. "You won't kill me?" She asked.  
"Tell me." Fenris was still obviously bubbling with rage but had calmed his voice a little. It was slightly scary when he spoke like that.  
"You have a sister, Varania. She works as a servant under Magister Ahriman in Qurinas." Hadriana said carefully.  
"She is not a slave?" Fenris asked.  
She shook her head.  
He walked up to Hadriana, still smirking. "Thank you for telling me this."  
"Can I go now?"  
"No."  
"But? You said!" Fear widened her eyes, slackened her small mouth.  
Fenris's tattoos lit once again. "I lied." He growled before he shoved his fist through her chest and pulled out her heart, quick enough the bloody muscle still pulsated in his hand and Hadriana could see it before she succumbed to death a moment later.

He threw the organ to the floor as if it were made of acid. Hawke always felt rather quesy when Fenris used his markings, but to see it up close like this made him feel like he would lose his breakfast.  
"She is dead." He stated, his voice empty.  
"You made her think you would let her go." Hawke said to him, not that he agreed with letting her live, but Fenris had indicated he would spare her life.  
He turned on him. "You think I was wrong?" He said angrily. "That woman, that bitch, made my life a nightmare. She deserved all that and more. She was nothing but another worthless mage corrupted by magic!"  
"Hey! Not all of us are like her!" Hawke defended, his own anger rising.  
"No? All the mages I have ever known were nothing but cruel! Corrupted by their greed, sacrificing innocents to use their blood for power! You saw here what they are capable of! What you could be capable of! Depraved and untrustworthy!"  
"I would not do what they have done, not ever! We're not all blood mages, we don't all deal with demons!" Hawke damn near shouted at the elf. "I have never done anything to make you think otherwise. You know you can trust me."  
"Calm down." Eve interrupted with a hard voice. "Both of you." She turned to Fenris. "You know Garrett is nothing like her or Danarius." She said softly.  
"What has magic touched that it hasn't spoiled?" He bit out. "Even I!"  
"Fenris..." She started moving closer to him.  
"No," he interrupted, quickly stepping out from Eve's gaze and reach. "No. I need to be alone. I need... to leave." With that he quickly bolted for the door not looking back.

Hawke watched Eve's face as she stared for a moment at the door at which he had disappeared through, but it was clear of any emotion. She turned around to see him staring at her, furrowed her brows in question and rolled her shoulders.  
"Might as well see what we can loot then." She said with a cold, hard voice.  
"Oh, yes, shiny things!" Isabela grinned, quickly going through pockets.  
Hawke just stood against the far wall, angry and hurt at Fenris's outburst.  
"You know he doesn't mean it." Varric sidled up to him. "He's just bitter. Though who can blame him really. He probably just needs a hug, even if all his pointy sharp bits say 'stay away!', it's just a ruse."  
"He should know by now what kind of a mage I am." Hawke argued.  
"He should, but this is Fenris, he's always blinded by his anger and resentment when it comes to mages." Varric sighed. "Come on, Hawke, I'll buy you a tankard of piss they call ale at the Hanged Man and I bet your ass Fenris will be over apologising by morning!"  
Hawke couldn't help but smile at the dwarf's attempts to cheer it up, and as it turned out, he was right.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

NSFW. This fic is rated M for a reason (and not just because Eve has a filthy mouth and everyone drinks far too much!)  
I hope you enjoy it!  
OoW

Chapter 26

Eve was in trouble. Serious, knee deep in nugshit, no way out, foolish trouble. She'd spent the last two years with her heart locked in a chest, wrapped in anger and rage and loneliness. No one had the key to it. She fucked without emotion, ruled by need and the compulsion to soothe the heated anger she always ran hot with and desire for the pleasure it gave. Shallow trysts of flesh and nothing more.  
Then he was there. Eroding that carefully locked chest without bloody trying. It was pathetic. She hated herself for it, but couldn't stop this need to be with him, it was irresistible. He was irresistible. Fucking broody elf.  
She couldn't believe the rage she felt for those slavers who were there to try and capture Fenris, how dare they think he a slave! How dare they think they could take him back to Danarius. They would not have him. They would never have him. The fact she had thought such things scared her, that such emotions had sneaked up on her like an assassin in the shadows. When had that happened?  
But maybe it wasn't all in vain, she saw Fenris watch her when they were together, heat in his eyes. Then, when she had shown her anger against that bitch Hadriana, she had not missed his green eyes dilate with appreciation at her words, something akin to fondness possibly.  
He had killed that woman, she knew he would, there was no other way, she deserved it. But his venomous tirade against Garrett was uncalled for, unnecessary. He had stormed off afterwards, his face etched in painful memories. A broken look in his eyes.  
She didn't think she'd feel so utterly worried for him. What in the Void was that about? He could take care of himself! And she herself would have wanted time alone after such an event. He would not have worried for her, would not have gone looking for her. He hadn't after Ser Varnell. But after Eve spent the evening at the Hanged Man without Fenris showing his face, even after Garrett had left for his own estate and everyone else had drifted off, she continued to worry, then get angry at her worry, and finally resolved to go to Fenris's mansion, for her peace of mind to see that he was fine and hadn't been picked up by another bunch of slavers while he'd been alone. She ignored the sick feeling in her chest at the thought of something bad happening to him. It was a feeling that she had become unused to in recent years.

She had been waiting outside his mansion for maybe an hour, it was hard to keep track of time without a clock, but she heard the soft footfalls of Fenris before she saw him, and when she did, oh shit, was her heart skipping a fucking beat at the way he walked with powerful long strides? His head bent, long white fringe only just hiding the dark and angry stare of his green eyes that hadn't yet seen her. He was tall, lithe and muscled, and the memories of him pressed against her, over her, had her fighting the urge to leap on him, to press herself against him, her lips on his mouth... and eventually on other parts. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, had said so, but the timing was always off. Garrett always needed help with something, or everyone was around. There was just no good time to get alone.  
She stood leaning against the wall beside his front door, her face impassive when his eyes finally fell on her.  
"Eve?" He questioned in that deep baritone of his.  
"I see you're still alive then." She commented idly. She might suspect he had some kind of feelings for her, but she couldn't bare hers, not until she knew for sure, and even then she wasn't positive she could wholly reciprocate, giving herself to someone heart and soul only ever ended badly.  
"I am." A look of confusion passed across his sharp and handsome features. "I have been to see Hawke. To... apologise, for what I said to him after I killed Hadriana."  
"Good. He didn't deserve that." She told him, pushing away from the wall.  
"And you are here because?" He stepped closer to her.  
"To make sure you weren't killed or captured on the way back to Kirkwall." Eve simply stated. "And since I know you are neither, I'll head back to the Hanged Man." Not that she wanted to, what would she do there but drink, or read the new books she had acquired? Maybe sharpen her sword, again and try to sleep through nightmares.  
"I see." Fenris's decadent mouth turned down slightly. "Though you may as well join me for a drink before you leave, I have a bottle or two of wine about."  
"I don't want to bother you."  
"You are not." He told her entering the mansion and leaving the door open for her to follow. She did, nearly unable to hide how pleased she was he hadn't sent her on her way.

She followed him up to his room where he was throwing a couple of logs on to the fire.  
"I should not have left like that." He said quietly when she entered his room. "I was just, am just, filled with such hate. And Hadriana, she was a torment, she would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep. I was powerless to do anything then, but today, to have that witch in my grasp, I could not let her escape."  
"You did the right thing. I'm glad she's dead."  
"I did not mean to rant at Hawke as I did, to shrug off your attempts to calm me. If I seem bitter it is not without cause." He sounded almost anxious, as if Eve would tell him it wasn't good enough.  
"No harm done. You have a right to your anger. Hadriana and all those slavers that tried to take you back to Danarius deserved no less." She turned towards the table, a couple of bottles of unopened wine and a bowl of apples sat on the table. "Shall I uncork the wine?" She asked, reaching out for a bottle.  
"I have been thinking of you a lot lately." He told her, his voice closer now. Eve turned her head to see him standing by the doorway just behind her. When had he moved? Her hand stilled in mid-air. "Truth be told, I think of little else." His voice was almost growling, his eyes looking at her so intensely that she shivered noticeably. He pushed the door closed, the sound of a lock clicking loudly in the sudden silence of the room.  
"Oh?" Was all Eve could say to his admission, she could feel her skin flushing, her mouth go dry, her heart thudding noisily in her head.  
"If you have changed your mind, if you no longer want this... you only have to say." He told her huskily.  
Eve turned round to face him as he stepped close to her. Not want him? This? Was he mad! Her head filled with thoughts of just how much she wanted this, wanted him and never wanted to stop. But she couldn't voice such soul baring words, so instead she met his lips with his, devouring his surprised grunt with her mouth. She wrapped her hands around the nape of his neck, his hair soft and thick. In the two times they had been intimate she had never touched him and oh how she was glad to rectify that.  
Fenris's tongue swept across her lips, she caressed his tongue with her own in return. Lost in the moment she quickly found herself pinned to the wall, his hands on either side of her head, his supple body pressed weightily up against her. But it wasn't enough, they were both in armour, she wanted to feel the heat of him, the smoothness of skin, the hardness of muscle. He seemed to understand this as he pulled away, his eyes almost black with lust.  
"You are overdressed." He growled, so low, so bestial, so primal. Fuck if Eve didn't just climax from his voice alone.  
She couldn't reply, her words stuck in her throat, a moan on her tongue as Fenris quickly started divesting of his spiky attire. She followed his lead, her hands shaking with tension, with the thought of 'finally' sighing in her head. When had she ever been this bloody wanton? So desperate for another?

She couldn't remember unbuckling her armour, glad though she had only thrown on a light set instead of her usual heavy plate after washing the blood of slavers from her body earlier on. But soon she was in nothing but her undergarments, facing Fenris who was in nought but his leggings, looking at her with a mixture of reverence and hunger. She traced his lyrium markings with her eyes. They travelled down his chest and stomach, disappearing past the waist band of his leggings, hoping she'd see, finally, where they ended. Fenris grabbed her before Eve knew he had moved, his body crushed against hers. Her hands found his waist, his golden hued skin smooth under her fingertips, his lyrium brands only slightly raised upon his flesh. He hissed at her touch at first, but did not draw away, and as she smoothed her hands along his waist, around his back he moaned quietly and relaxed in to her touch, watching her face, for what, she didn't know, but she stared in to those green coronas, absorbed by the intensity of what she saw there.  
His hands found her neck, softly encircling, brushing strands of her slowly lengthening hair away from her face. His eyes traced her features and then she felt a calloused finger trace the large scar on her jaw. She couldn't help but tense under his touch, try and turn away so it was hidden by hair and shadow. So ugly, a mar on her face, a ruin to something that could otherwise be considered beautiful, she'd heard it said many times, knew it was true.  
He frowned at her reaction, forcefully turned her face back, his lips traced the bumpy pink line, and even Eve couldn't help but sigh at those decadent lips against her flesh.  
"Tu es pulchra.*" He murmured, she didn't know what it meant. He was apt to speak in Tevene on occasion. Then his lips moved back to hers, one hand moving to capture the back of her head, the other winding around her waist to pull her even more firmly against him.  
She moaned as she felt him thick and hard against the apex of her thighs, she couldn't help writhe against him while a groan crawled up his throat to be swallowed by her.

He started to walk her to the bed, how it was managed without them ending up in a tangled mess on the floor she didn't know, but somehow they made it, their mouths never leaving one another's, her hands brushing softly up his back, his hand fisted in her hair and holding her against him as if she would disappear if he loosened his hold.  
Her knees hit the edge of his bed, and she lost her balance, sitting clumsily on the thick blankets, now eye level with his waistband of his leggings and the prominent bulge underneath them. She spared a glance at Fenris, a small smirk on her lips at his confused look before she begun unlacing the restricting article of clothing. She heard a choked gasp as her fingers purposefully traced his length under the black material before finally tearing the laces open and pushing down the leggings to free him from his confines.  
She traced his tattoos that had indeed gone down past the waistband of his leggings with her fingertips, swirling low on his hips to wind down over his pelvis, along his muscular thighs. She saw that they went all the way down his long legs. But his tattoos were not what she was interested in now, no. It was the very hard, generously endowed length of Fenris that she was interested in. She flicked out her tongue and ran it down his length. He involuntarily bucked his hips with a moan, which spurred her on to take him in her mouth. Smooth and hot, a trickle of sweetness against her tactile tongue. Eve watched Fenris as his eyes closed and his breathing hastened, his hands balled in to fists at his sides. She continued to play up and down his length, enjoying how he reacted under every swirl of her tongue, the pressure of her lips, a squeeze of her hand. She had not done this to a man in a long time and she had remembered how Fenris had mentioned he had not been with anyone by his choice in all his memory, so she was determined to make this good, great, for him, not just because she knew it would spur him on to return the favour, but because he deserved it, and she enjoyed giving him such deserved pleasure.  
She kept her pace fairly languid, but she soon heard Fenris's gravelly tone.  
"Stop." He told her, "Before you render me spent."  
She slid her mouth from him slowly, noticing the tension in his jaw and the shiver that coursed through his body, playfully licking his end before learning back on her elbows and scooting up on his bed before him.  
He breathed out shakily before his eyes finally focused on Eve laid out before him. His pupils large and black.  
She waited for what he would do, longed for him to touch her, anywhere. She pulsated with arousal, a burning heat at her core. He knelt on the bed and crawled up her body, leaning forward, his arms either side of her head, his face mere inches from hers so that his hair tickled her forehead, his legs on either side of her thighs.  
"You are still overdressed." He commented with a raised eyebrow.  
"That's rather unfortunate isn't it?" She smirked.  
"It is for your undergarments." He breathed heavily, and suddenly Eve saw a glint of steel in his left hand.  
"What the...?" She started, and Fenris drew the dagger he apparently kept under his pillow up and under the centre of her brassiere cutting it open, her ample breasts spilling out from the black bindings. Before she could argue about his vandalism of a rather pricy undergarment, Fenris bent his head to lick at the peak of her left breast, her argument leaving her in a breathy moan.  
His tongue felt delicious, dexterous, hot and wet as he paid equal attention to each aching bud.  
"Fenrisss," she hissed as he used his teeth, each nip sending a bolt of delight to her core, making her even more desperate and needful for more. She ran her hands through his hair, down his neck, over his hard, strong, muscled shoulders, her fingers sometimes running over the raised swirls of his brands or a scar. Knowing he had his own scars made her feel slightly better about the ones she carried on her body.  
Then Fenris was crawling down her, his tongue leaving her breasts, now replaced by trailing fingers that scorched her skin. He nudged her legs apart so he could kneel between them.  
Eve peered down from heavy lids to look at Fenris who stared intently at her.  
"May as well cut those," She nodded to her remaining undergarments, "they were a matching set."  
He gave her a hungry smile, the dagger reappearing, before slicing through the thin ties on her hips and pulling the useless material away to throw over his shoulder.  
He was breathing heavily as she was completely and fully revealed to him, the dark hair of her mound glistening with the dampness of her arousal. His hands rested on her knees, before he started sliding them slowly down her thighs, to rest on her hips before he pulled her roughly towards him, bending to crash his lips to hers, almost snarling with lust, his arms wrapping around her back, pulling her to sit upwards, perched on his lap, his hardness sliding against her moist centre, rubbing against her pulsating nub. She pulled away just as he did, moaning lewdly in to his ear as he buried his face in her neck groaning loudly, his fingers pressing hard against her shoulders as her nails scraped his scalp.

Eve could not bear the teasing closeness of him grinding against her but still not inside her anymore. Maker, she just wanted him inside her.  
"Fenris," her voice was hoarse with her shameless need for him. She could only remember wanting one person like she did this man. It both terrified and thrilled her. "Fenris," she continued, "I want you."  
He removed his face from her neck and looked up at her. He had a sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes so large and green looked straight at her, his lips swollen from their kisses. He wasn't frowning for once and it made his face look slightly younger than his twenty eight years, clear of anger and bitterness.  
She ran a finger along the shell of his pointed ear and his eyes rolled in to the back of his head. Eve had, had an elven lover before, not counting her one night with Zevran in Antiva, and knew their ears, particularly the points, to be an erogenous zone for them. Fenris was no exception, and as she replaced her finger with her tongue, breathing hotly as she licked his lovely pointed tip, he moaned deeply before hoisting Eve up by a few inches so his hard member rested at her entrance, leaving her in no doubt he wanted her just at much, and she pushed herself violently on to his impressive length.  
She threw her head back, crying out loudly at the feeling of completeness as his filled her totally, her hands gripping his shoulders firmly. She rocked back on her knees and then impaled herself again, lost in sensations of rapture, his hands around her, his mouth on her, his length inside her.  
At some point he pushed her on her back, his solid weight above her as she wrapped her legs around him, his mouth moving to her breasts as her own tongue lavished his ears. He thrust vigorously into her, over and over, relentless, desperate, the vibration of growls travelling through his chest in to her, as he rubbed against her at just the right angle when he buried himself deep within her walls. She was soon climaxing with a scream tearing from her throat, her nails raking Fenris's back, the feeling of just how wonderful this was, he was, how she wanted him, and not just like this, but in every way, coursing through her veins.  
He followed soon after, teeth biting the juncture of her shoulder and neck, painfully satisfying, harsh Tevene words spilling from between his lips at his own peak in pleasure. She felt the spasms in his spine as he finished, immersed inside her.

He didn't remove himself from her right away. He stayed pressed in to her neck, breathing irregularly, a hand curled tightly in her hair, as if he didn't want to let her go. When he finally rolled from atop her to rest at her side, Eve felt so tired, so sleepy, still bathed in the delicious afterglow of a fantastic fuck... Oh, who was she kidding anymore, it hadn't been just a fuck, not with all the tender touches and kisses mixed with a rough and passionate coupling. Eve couldn't lie to herself anymore, she cared for Fenris, like the Eve of the past who wasn't a Warden or hadn't grown angry and bitter with heartbreak would have done long before now without worry. She knew she could so easily fall for him, could love him and she hoped her heart was healed enough for such a risk.  
But did he feel the same? It was hard to tell in the shadowy room as Fenris's breathing evened out, his left hand resting on her abdomen, the other still curled in her hair, though his grip had loosened. If it was just a fuck wouldn't she be gone now? Asked to leave? Fenris left alone in the blankets of his bed that smelt of their combined scents? She certainly wouldn't be laying close to him watching him sleep? She would have to wait to see if he felt the same she supposed, but if it was just an act of primal need, to clear the sexual tension between them, it hadn't worked. Eve still wanted him, Maker be damned, she wanted him even more, looking at him stretched out beside her she felt her arousal spiralling out of control. Maybe after some rest he'd be willing to go again? She hoped so.  
So she continue to lay next to Fenris, revelling in the heat of his body, his touch, dozing lightly until he woke.

* * *

*"You are beautiful" I used a latin translation as this is the closest thing to Tevene.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter 27

_..."Leto! Varania! Come in from the rain." A black haired elven woman called.  
__"Yes, mamae!" He called back, his voice pitched and youthful, pulling a small red headed elven girl behind him.  
__"Oh, Leto," the woman sighed with a smile, her face kind, green eyes like his, dark skinned, but fine boned and thin faced. "I told you not to get dirty! Master wishes to inspect you both later." She used her apron to wipe smudges from his face while the girl beside him giggled.  
__"Sorry, mamae." He said. "I was just trying to make Vara laugh."  
__"Oh, my little Leto, so sweet. Go on inside, I made some apple cakes with the last of the fruit, go on." She ushered them inside and disappeared into mist...__  
_

_..."You wish to compete?" A man, was that... Danarius? Asked from a balcony above him. His voice laced with contempt.  
__"I do." He replied with conviction.  
__"You think you are good enough to be one of my lyrium warriors? My bodyguard?"  
__"I do." He growled.  
__"Then go on, slave, prove your worth."  
__He stepped in to the middle of an arena, other slaves, ten around him, ready to fight till only one stood victor. He would win and then his mother and little sister would be free.  
__A deafening bell rung out around them, it was time to fight. His blade arched through the air slicing through the torso of a young blond haired elf that stood close to him. The face of the boy fading before him...__  
_

_...He was strapped to a table, naked, in a large room filled with candles. He could see runes carved in to the table under him, the smell of metal, no, lyrium, hung heavy in the air.  
__"Is he ready?" Danarius spoke to an unseen person. "Good." The magister approached, a cruel, narrow blade in his hand, looking down at him, smiling, he was always smiling.  
__Danarius ran a finger down his bare chest and sighed, Fenris fought the urge to flinch.  
__"This is going to hurt." Danarius said in a pleased tone, raising the blade and began to cut away his flesh in strips.  
__He screamed, over and over, until he couldn't scream anymore, until there was nothing but darkness..._

Fenris woke with a start, sitting up violently. The memories fading quickly in his conscious state. The thin threads of his past life he tried to catch, but they slipped away like spiders silk through his fingers.  
This had never happened before. Never. Now he had knowledge of his memories, but couldn't even remember them. It was worse than knowing nothing.  
Then he remembered why he was in bed, he looked over his shoulder to see Eve, actually asleep, and peacefully at that.  
He didn't remember falling asleep, but he obviously had, the fire was nearly burnt out.

He ran a hand anxiously through his hair and stood from the bed redressing quickly. Maker, Eve had been... amazing. Never had he dreamt such bliss could be possible. How beautiful she was, how she touched him with her hands and her lips. She had even pleasured him with her mouth, something he'd never known to be a willing act, and she had him nearly spilling his seed as soon as her tongue ran down his length. She had laid herself out for him, willing, wanting, his name falling from her sublime lips as he explored her generous breasts and warrior body, soft curves and hard muscle, the scars from her battles, seeing her like that had only made him hungrier for her.  
When Eve had told him that she wanted him, he had almost choked in disbelief that she, a hero, a legend, a woman who could have anyone, was choosing him.  
To be inside her was like nothing he could have ever imagined. It was pure ecstasy. How she moaned and whimpered above him, then below him, her sounds, her smell, her skin, all of it a drink he thirsted for.  
His markings had hurt at first, they always did, but being with her had been like a balm to their pain.  
But now he had been woken by escaping memories of the person he was before the markings. Who was he and what was he but a slave, just a slave, who was worth nothing, who could give her nothing.

He looked at Eve as she started to stir. He had always thought himself heartless, but with her he realised that wasn't true. His heart had just been waiting for the right person to start it beating. She had done it, damn her, she had made him feel for her! But he couldn't let it continue. How could he when he had nothing but a worthless organ to offer her. She deserved more, could have more, eventually someone like that King of hers would turn her head and he would be forgotten.  
"Fenris?" She called from the bed drowsily as he stood awkwardly, half dressed in the middle of the room. "Everything alright?" She sat on the bed, not bothering to cover her nudity. Looking at her was making him want her again, and again, to hear her pleasure. He spun around so she could not see how quickly she could arouse him at just the sight of her.  
"I...?" 'I'm not worthy of you' he wanted to say but fell short. He wished he had memorised her body, every curve, every scar.  
"It wasn't what you expected?" Her voice had turned hard.  
"It was fine..." Why lie about that if that was their last time. "No, it was better than that, better than anything I could have hoped for or imagined, but,"  
"But what?" She said rising, a flash of anger on her eyes.  
"It's just... all of this. I can't..."  
"I get it. This is all it was." She interrupted him, glaring at him as he said nothing but lies. What could he say instead? Declare his affections? She probably didn't return them anyway. Even if she did, she was better than that, than him, with his bitterness, a master who would never give up the chase, his lack of a past, nothing to his name but his markings.  
She started gathering her clothes and armour, dressing quickly.  
"I'm sorry." The words were just so insufficient for what she had given him, shown him.  
"What for, Fenris?" She refused to look at him. "It was just a fuck right? Right?" Fury enveloped her voice. "You know, it was a great," she spat, "but you thought I wanted more?" He looked at her confused. "Don't you remember? I only fuck, that's all I want." She glanced at him. He winced at the hurt she couldn't hide in those eyes. She was lying too, he could see she was lying, hiding her hurt in anger and harsh words. But he'd rather believe her words than the true pain he saw.

She was soon dressed. "See you around." She said, heading for the door, not bothering to look at him.  
Venhadis! He was a fool to have ever thought he could be with her and for it to mean nothing. It had meant everything.  
He heard the door to the mansion slam violently. He collapsed in to one of the chairs at the table and lost himself to drink.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter 28

Everyone knew something was wrong between Fenris and Eve, even if they both denied it. They still drank at the Hanged Man with the others, though Eve now stuck to hard liquor and not wine. They still accompanied Hawke on jobs when he needed them without question, both walking on the outer edges of the group, silent as usual. But there were other changes they all noticed. Fenris was quick to anger, at least more so than usual. Answering questions with meaningless grunts or glares. When anyone caught him looking at Eve, well it wasn't the heated look of a lover, but of sadness and despair. And Eve, well, she grew colder, if that was possible, quieter, hard liquor was drunk like water, and she was even more deadly with her blade, almost verging on bloodthirsty. She stopped smiling. It was bloody depressing. So depressing that Hawke decided to talk to her about it.

"So," he sat down at his desk in the library, turning to face her as she stroked a finger across the spines of his book collection. "You want to talk about it?" He was such an eloquent speaker. Not.  
"It? Talk about what exactly?" She turned round to glare at him. Her arms crossed under her chest. Had she lost weight recently? She was looking more tired he was sure.  
"Um, you know, whatever happened between you and Fenris?" He asked softly.  
She grunted and turned away from him. "There is nothing to talk about because nothing happened."  
"Are you sure?" He prodded.  
"To the Void with you, Garrett! Is that why you asked me here? To pry? I get enough of that from Isabela and Varric, fuck knows I didn't come here to get it from you too."  
"Sorry!" He stood, his hands held up in apology. "Fine. If nothing happened, then fine. We're just worried about you."  
"Everyone needs to leave me the fuck alone. Makers balls, I've had it with the interfering."  
She was being defensive, angry and defensive, and Hawke knew she only did that when she was hiding something.  
"Come on, have something to eat I won't ask anything again, alright." He said soothingly. She looked at him unconvinced, but took a seat at the small table set up by the fire laden with food.  
"This is better than the shit at the Hanged Man." She told him round a mouthful of bread and cheese. He couldn't help but chuckle at her lack if manners.  
"Why do you stay there then?" He asked.  
"Where else am I going to go?"  
"Here?" He offered.  
"Yes, Isabela would love me if I shacked up with you!" She shook her head.  
"I was suggesting the room that was going to be Carvers, actually. And I doubt she'd mind, we're not exactly... exclusive." According to Isabela anyway. He would be happy to be with her, only her, but she wasn't. It was starting to get to him lately, every time he was with her, in his mind he would see her wrapped around another person moaning their name. He told her once and it was like she didn't even care and suggested a threesome.  
"I see." Eve murmured diplomatically, popping a grape in her mouth. "So you're serious? About moving in? What does Leandra think?"  
"I am completely serious. I was the last time I asked you." She had vehemently refused then, saying she couldn't rely on anyone and didn't want charity. "And she doesn't mind, in fact she likes the idea. A lot." At first his mother had thought he meant moving in romantically and started going on about weddings and grandchildren and, ugh, all sorts of nonsense! But he'd soon put her straight, and though she was disappointed, she liked the idea of 'another woman around the house'. "There's already a lock on the bedroom door, you'd have your own key to the house, come and go as you please, have any visitors you want, but the meals are better, especially with that elven girl, Orana, working here now, she's an amazing cook! And the room is far enough away that your... um... nightmares won't bother anyone."  
"I have to pay you rent." She told him unequivocally.  
"No, you don't." He told her.  
"I can't just be in your debt, Garrett." She frowned at him.  
"You're not in my debt. You're my friend, my oldest friend. I want to make sure you are being well fed and have a decent place to live."  
"Alright." She said tentatively.  
"Really? Great! This is great!" He jumped up and pulled her in to a hug. "We'll go get your things in the morning so you can move in straight away! Then we can have a housewarming party for you! This is going to be great!" Hawke beamed, a small chuckle escaped Eve, which made him feel even better.  
"Well, you certainly sold it with the offer of good food." She told him pulling away.  
"It was my nefarious plan! Grey Wardens and your love of food, it's an easy way to bribe you!" He was still smiling. It would be good to put the room that was never Carvers to good use. Eve deserved it. The offer had definitely been worth it just for the break in her cold demeaned, even if she still made out nothing had happened between her and Fenris.

The next day, with the help of Anders, Sebastian and Merrill - Isabela had apparently been 'too busy' - they moved Eve's belongings from the dank hole of a room at the Hanged Man, to her new home with Hawke.  
"I thought a Warden-Commander would have more things." Babbled Merrill happily. Maker, that girl was sweet, except for the blood magic stuff.  
"I had to leave it all behind." Eve said a little sadly.  
"Did you get to keep anything from the Archdemon?" The elf asked, dropping an armload of clothes on to the bed.  
"What, like the head?" Anders laughed.  
"I wish!" Eve smiled slightly. "They left it to rot up on Fort Drakon, except for some of the bones, they made me some ceremonial armour with it. It was really nice, except for it being tainted of course, not that it matters for Grey Wardens."  
"You have many books." Sebastian commented. "I see you have not just literary tales, but histories and, is this a Chantry book?" He picked up a blue leather bound book to show Eve what he was talking about.  
"Didn't think you were religious?" Hawke said smiling, knowing Sebastian had only picked it up so he could question her on her lack of faith despite finding out recently she was the Warden who had found Andraste's ashes at her final resting place.  
"I like books." Eve shrugged. "Histories, religions, fiction, anything. How else can I be occupied when I don't sleep?"  
"I can think of a few things," Anders winked.  
"Oooh, like knitting? I like to knit, except I always end up tangled up in wool and am only good at knitting scarves." Merrill asked. Yes, she was completely sweet. Hawke smiled at her as everyone else chuckled.  
"I'm really jealous of your big bed. I only have a small rickety cot" Anders said wistfully. Hawke rolled his eyes, bad enough he was one mage living as a noble in Hightown, he couldn't exactly let them all in! Besides, Anders had to be in his clinic for the patients and Hawke had given him a key to the cellar of the estate by his clinic should he be in danger and need to escape.  
"Maybe you'd let me share with you sometimes?" He continued. Hawke was unsure whether the healer was joking or not.  
"Only if I can kick you out after." Eve told him, not looking around as she placed items of makeup and a selection of daggers on the dressing table.  
"Wait, did I just not hear a no?" Anders exclaimed dramatically, "That has to be the best offer I've had in, well, years!"  
She ignored him and turned to face everyone. "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it." She told them. "I'll see you all later for this... housewarming party Garrett has insisted on throwing." That was obviously her way if telling them to buggar off.  
"It will be fun." Hawke insisted. "Everyone is coming. There will be food and alcohol!"  
"That's something I suppose." She grumbled. He knew she hated parties, but it was tough, she was going to like this one. "Anyway, off you all go, I'm taking full advantage of my new lodgings and want to do that alone." She ushered them out as they all said their farewells.

"Be here for eight alright?" Hawke told everyone as he walked them to the entrance hall. "I'm going to go make sure Eve settles in all right." He turned back to go to Eve's room. It felt good to call it that. Too long had it been another reminder of his failings as a big brother who couldn't protect his younger siblings. He went to knock on the door, but noticed it was slightly ajar. Maybe he shouldn't have peeked in, but he did. He saw Eve sat on the edge of the bed staring at her hands... wait, not her hands, a small piece of black fabric that she twisted between her fingers, a contemplative look filled with sadness on her face and her grey eyes shining wetly, though she wasn't crying.

Hawke stepped away silently, thinking how strange it was to see her like that, then thought how Fenris had complained the other week about needing a new undershirt because his had gotten ripped on the sleeve. Hmmm, strange indeed. He needed to have a word with that elf tonight.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter 29

This was a foolish venture, Fenris was sure of it. Hawke throwing some housewarming party because Eve had moved in with him, it could only go wrong.

He remembered hearing it off of Varric first when the dwarf had come over to the mansion, his hands had dug in to the table in blind jealousy as he first believed Eve had moved in with Hawke to be in to his bed, his arms, until Varric told him to calm down and explained it wasn't like that at all, she had what was to be Carver's room before he had died in the Deep Roads, that it was tonight at eight, and he should bring a housewarming gift.

Now it was gone nine and he stood awkwardly outside Hawke's home with a bottle of wine and a gift for Eve he'd picked out from the market. He wasn't even sure if he'd give it to her, she would probably just throw it back in his face.  
"You shouldn't loiter in doorways you know, people will think you're up to something." He turned round to see Isabela standing behind him, a grin on her face.  
"I'd thought you'd be in there already." He replied.  
"I was... busy, people to see, people to lay... you know how it is, sweet thing." She purred.  
"Not really." He said dryly. "I thought you and Hawke were... together?"  
"Sometimes. He's definitely a tiger between the sheets, but I'm not letting my account at the Blooming Rose go to waste. I'm paid up for the rest of the year!" She stepped beside him and knocked on the door sharply.  
"I imagine Hawke isn't happy about that." Fenris knew the mage wasn't the kind of man who slept around, he was what Varric described as a romantic.  
"He knows how it is between us. I'm no ones property." She told him, before the door opened revealing Bodahn who ushered them both in with a pleasant smile.  
"Please come in Messere's. The rest of your companions are here already. There is food and drink, I hope you have good evening." Bodahn told them.

Fenris trailed Isabela in to the hall. Hawke was sat on a bench with Merrill as the blood mage was talking excitedly about something, her arms flailing wildly, while Hawke listened with a soft smile on his face. Why he put up with Merrill's' ramblings Fenris didn't know. Isabela quickly spotted Hawke and sashayed over to him before she plonked herself in his lap, kissing him quite thoroughly as the Dalish elf turned bright pink.  
Anders and Varric were sat by the fireplace, both laughing hysterically, probably discussing macabre ways of killing Knight-Commander Meredith, again. Sebastian was sat close by, shaking his head disapprovingly at them. He spotted Eve finally, sat with Aveline, talking quietly, both with serious expressions on their faces.

Maker, seeing Eve always made him remember their night together. Her nude form, her soft battle scarred skin, the way her eye lids went heavy with lust, the sounds that came from her mouth. It was torture to see her and know he could not have her. She now pretended nothing had passed between them and Fenris did the same, it was what she wanted and he did not discuss his private affairs anyway. But he missed their talks, sharing wine, being close to her. Now she never said anything to him, drank hard liquor, did not visit him, did not sit near him. It almost made him regret having laid with her.

He walked slowly towards Eve and Aveline. The Guard-Captain was in her usual attire, but Eve was dressed in tight fitting black leather trousers, a blue shirt and a black corset, so that her breasts were pushed high and together, immediately bringing the memory of him cutting apart her black brassiere to spill her ample breasts in to view, and how he had suckled and bit those hardened rosy peaks as she writhed and moaned in pleasure. He growled low in his throat as he felt his arousal harden painfully. This was a terrible idea.

"... So if you could teach some of my guards anything useful, I would be truly grateful, especially when you've had experience of training different skillsets." Aveline finished.  
"I'll be there the day after next. Hope you don't mind if they end up bruised and sore?" Eve said, sipping on some amber liquid in her glass. Looked like Hawke was fool enough to get out the good crystal.  
"I wouldn't want it any other way." Aveline smiled, before catching Fenris's eye. "Oh, Fenris, you're here. Varric didn't think you'd turn up, guess he lost that bet."  
"I guess so." He replied, his eyes shifting quickly to Eve who remained expressionless.  
"Eve has just agreed to help train some of my guards, she's going to be a great help."  
"She will." He agreed.  
"Well, as much as I like awkward conversation, I'm going to chat with Sebastian, apparently the Chantry has trouble at night with ruffians." She turned to Eve, "I'm glad you got out of that hole at the Hanged Man, you deserved better than that."  
"Thank you Aveline." Eve nodded.  
"Fenris." The Guard-Captain bid him as she walked away.

Fenris stood before Eve in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to say, and she made no move to say anything either.  
"I... have bought you something." He held out the bottle of wine. "Varric said it was custom to bring a gift." He explained as her icy grey eyes met his green ones. She had lined them heavily in black kohl so they were nothing short of bewitching.  
"Thanks." She took the bottle, he noticed she was careful not to brush his fingers, and sat it down on the bench beside her.  
"And this." He held out the parcel in his other hand, his heart pounding with trepidation. It was foolish of him to have bothered with such a gift as the one she now took from him, a confused look on her face.  
"You didn't have to..." She grumbled, turning over the gift in her hand, before she carefully unwrapped it. Finally she held the black glittering orb in her palm.  
"It's a..."  
"Skyball. Yes, I know." She gave Fenris a puzzled look, as if she didn't know why he would purchase her such a thing.  
"I remember you told me how you missed the night sky. That when you camped during the Blight you would lie under the stars and in Kirkwall you can never see it. I thought you'd like this. It has the correct constellations on it."  
"I didn't think you'd remember that." She told him quietly.  
"Venhedis. Of course I would." He growled irritably. "If you don't like it just throw it out." He knew it was a foolish gift.  
"No." She told him suddenly, bringing the orb to her chest protectively. "I like it very much. I had one back at Vigils Keep but had to leave it there. This is... a very thoughtful gift. Thank you, Fenris. You didn't have to." She told him.  
"You are... most welcome." His voice was quiet, relieved.  
"I'm going to put it somewhere safe." She said rising from her seat. "This too." She picked up the wine. For a moment she stepped towards him, to touch him in gratitude maybe? But she apparently thought better of it and turned without another word and up the stairway. He watched her go, feeling despair at how much he wanted her touch, no matter how brief.

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice beside him.  
"I need to talk to you." It was Hawke, he sounded and looked annoyed.  
"About what?" Fenris asked.  
"You slept with her didn't you?" He accused. Fenris knew he meant Eve, but he wasn't going to play in to Hawke's feeble trap of admission.  
"Her? You'll have to be more specific." The elf ground out.  
"What the...?" He looked confused, as if Fenris sleeping with anyone but Eve was incomprehensible. "Eve! I'm talking about, Eve!"  
"Has she said anything to you?"  
"Well no..."  
"Then there is nothing to say."  
"Something happened between the two of you, don't pretend it didn't, I walked in on you both remember!" How could he forget that.  
"I do not know what you speak of." Fenris told him sternly.  
"She's become all... cold again, miserable. What did you do to her?"  
Fenris scowled at the man. "It was her decision. She left. It is done." Not true, not completely. He hadn't stopped Eve from leaving, he hadn't told her how he felt, about the memories, about how he... cared for her. How he felt less than worthless, just a slave, nowhere near good enough for her. It was better she thought he didn't care.  
"She left you?" Hawke sounded surprised.  
"It is done. Leave it alone." Fenris warned him.  
"Fine." He grumbled. "But forgive me if I don't entirely believe you."  
"Forgive me if I don't entirely care." He shot back then strode off to get a drink. Fasta vass, he didn't need this!

The rest of the night he settled himself in to a lonely corner of the room, nursing one bottle of wine. He could have left, he suspected no one would have stopped him, least of all Hawke and Eve, but then he wouldn't be able to watch her, hear her voice when she occasionally spoke. It was as if he was torturing himself, especially so when she ended up in the company of the damned abomination.

Anders had approached her some time ago. He sat too close, smiled too much. He wanted to pull the abominations head from his shoulders.  
"So, I bet that bed seems awfully big and lonely?" Anders said smiling. Fenris felt his grip tighten around the bottle of wine in his hand.  
"Not particularly." She said coolly.  
"Cold though, right?"  
"I run hot enough." Eve replied. Was she... flirting?! Of course not! She had never been quiet on her lack of attraction she felt for the healer and she was too straight forward for flirting.  
"That you do." Anders told her, shifting closer and tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. "I see your hair is getting long again. I like it long."  
Suddenly the bottle of wine in Fenris's hand cracked and broke in his furious grip. Wine spilled over the stone floor and glass pierced his palm.  
"Shit." He heard Eve curse, and looked up to see she had stood up and was walking towards him. "Are you alright?" He looked at her, then around the room to see everyone had turned to him.  
"I'm fine." He growled through gritted teeth.  
"No. You're bleeding." She said looking at his left hand.  
"Andraste's knickers, you're clumsy." Anders approached at Eve's shoulder, smirking.  
"I'll be fine." He told them both.  
"Let me at least bandage it for you." Eve suggested.  
"No. It is not necessary."  
"Stop being so stubborn, Fenris." Her voice started to rise in anger.  
"Oh leave him be, Eve. If he wants to suffer, let him." Anders said. The fact he didn't offer to heal him did not go unnoticed by Fenris, not that he would have accepted.  
Eve gave Anders a scathing look before turning back to Fenris. "I just want to help." She told him.  
"I do not need, nor want, any help from you." He snarled at her. Why was he being so cruel? He was angry, hurt that she hadn't thrown off Anders touch. Was she trying to make him jealous? It was working!  
He saw her wince at his words. "Fine." She turned around, grabbing Anders hand. "Come on sparkle fingers," she told him dragging him with her, "we're getting fucking drunk."  
"Yay! Now it's a party!" Isabela hollered.

Fenris was shaking with rage. He couldn't watch her with that abomination. He wouldn't. He left as quickly as he could, trembling with fury.  
Damn her! Damn her for getting under his skin! Damn her for leaving that night without an argument! Damn her for making him care!  
He hoped he would run in to some foolish gangs out for a fight so that he could take his anger out on them, but he doubted he would be that lucky.


	30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter 30

"You slept with him didn't you?" Anders asked her after the elf in question had left in a hurricane of anger.  
Eve looked at him from over the top of her drink, some vile dwarvish concoction Varric had brought with him. She just shrugged and brought the bottle to her lips, wincing as she swallowed the burning liquid.  
"I really did think you had better taste." He told her, which earned him an actual laugh, the first he'd heard for a while.  
"Oh really? You want me to reel off the list of those you know about? Hmm, Alistair, Nathanial, that new warden recruit, erm, Darell? Dane? You know? That mage with the tattoos, tall, big... feet?"  
"Darin? Oh, Makers red arse cheeks, Eve! You slept with Darin! He was crazy, like cavorting with demons crazy!" He remembered the guy; he came from the Circle after Eve had reached an agreement with Gregoir and Irving to take any questionable mages that wanted to join up with the Grey Wardens. Anders knew him somewhat from his own time in the Circle, a couple of years older than him, dark skinned, pitch black hair, talented with entropy and sprit spells. But there had been rumours of his love of things macabre. Some of the mages he'd been with had said he was a bit on the rough side.  
"Big feet, Anders." Eve reaffirmed. It made him look at his own. They certainly weren't small. Were they?  
"At least it means you're not turned off by us Circle mages," he waggled an eyebrow at her. "Anyone else I know."  
"Zevran. Oghren probably told you about him, the Antiva assassin? Just before I left Antiva."  
"You appear to a have a thing for men that want to kill you." He commented. "Guess that means you don't have a type?"  
"Male is about it." Eve agreed, taking another long draught. "That probably confirms my bad taste though, so Fenris is hardly a surprise."  
"She is more concerned over empty pleasures than the troubles of the world around her." Justice sneered. "Mortals like her are the ones that stop the world from changing."  
"And it was just, what? A onetime thing?" He prodded gently, ignoring Justice. The spirit had been quieter recently, since Vengeance had appeared, but he still couldn't help to voice his distaste for Eve, especially when she disagreed with the plight of the mages.  
"Apparently." She confirmed somewhat aloof.  
"Andraste's arse cheeks! You've fallen for the bloody elf!" He accused loudly, shocked, the room around them falling rather silent.  
"Shut. Up." She growled at him quietly, eyes wide. "We fucked. That's it. That's all there ever was going to be. All he wanted. All I wanted." That didn't sound convincing at all.  
"You're worth more than that. Than him." Anders told her. He knew it from the very depths of his heart and soul that she wasn't just worthy of the occasional lovers she picked up. Worth more than the emotionally empty affairs she divulged in.  
"What gave you that idea?" Eve asked him. "I don't exactly have years ahead of me. I can't give anyone children, a family. I'm just an angry, scarred, barren thing." She was starting to slur a little.  
"No you're not. You're beautiful," she snorted at him, turning away from his gaze. "Shush, you are. You're passionate, capable, inspiring, loyal."  
"Now you're taking the piss." She smiled slightly, looking up from under thick, black lashes.  
"Absolutely not. You deserve better, you deserve..."  
"If you say, yourself, I'm going to punch you in the face." She slurred even more now, what was in that bottle? Anders had never seen Eve drunk before. Tipsy yes, but not slurring drunk.  
"Um, no, I was going to say you deserve someone who cherishes you." Anders wished a little that, that person could be him. Once it could have been, before Justice. Before Vengeance. But he had the mage plight to concentrate on. That was his focus now. Distractions like Eve could not be allowed, even if his body disagreed with him every time he was close to her. Besides, if he could sleep with her, he didn't want it to be a one night only affair, and he was sure she wouldn't let that happen.  
It was still amusing to tease her though and flirt with her in front of Fenris.

"Am I drunk?" She suddenly asked. "'Cos that would be bloody shit. I told Varric it would take more than this to get me pissed, and now I'll owe him five sovereigns!" She swayed a little as she spoke. Anders couldn't help but laugh at her.  
"Hey! Varric!" She called out loudly, swinging the now empty bottle above her head.  
"Yes, Deadly?" The dwarf smiled at her.  
"Yeah. So, I might just have lost that bet."  
"Ha! Knew that stuff would work! It's got a kick like a mule!"  
"Had to, err, drink the whole thing, though, so, you know, it wasn't that strong!" She smiled. Then she bent her head conspiratorially towards Anders and whispered, rather loudly so everyone could hear her anyway. "I get so fucking horny when I'm drunk. And sober, actually. More when I'm drunk though. Definitely."  
That little bit of information wasn't doing anything to dampen out his attraction to her. Thank the Maker Fenris had stormed out then, else she'd probably change her mind and make another mistake with that dog.

"Shit, Deadly." Varric walked over, "You didn't really drink it all did you? Did she, Blondie?"  
"Sure did!" She waved the bottle at him.  
"Yeah, it's pretty much all gone. She wouldn't even let me have any!" Anders confirmed, and then noticed the concerned look on Varric's face. "Why?"  
"Nugshit. That stuff has a warning label! You're not supposed to consume more than two measures! She should be dead by all accounts!"  
"Pfft!" Eve waved off his concerns. "I can't bloody read dwarvish! Besides, I'm fine! I feel great!  
"Well buggar me, Deadly, you really can take your drink. Think you won this bet!"  
"Hey, Varrrrric," she purred suddenly, "you know I've never done it with a dwarf before," Anders spluttered in shock and heard Isabela roar with laughter at Eve's confession. Varric just raised an eyebrow. "What do you reckon? Bianca can watch, or join in? Or it can be our little secret?" She raised her dark eyebrows at him.  
"Um, no offence, Deadly, but I might be more than you can handle." The dwarf said with a smirk.  
"I like a challenge! Seriously, I knew this guy, back when I was a mercenary, think his name was Keene, which is funny, 'cos he was really keen!" She started laughing at her little joke, "Anyway, he was like this," she measured out a space between her hands that had to be at least thirteen inches, which was impossible, surely? "So if you're bigger than that, Varric, well, that's just selfish not to share." She crossed her arms.  
"I, err, shit, Deadly. There is nothing I can say in response to that." He said shaking his head, chuckling.  
"Oh, sweet thing, I wish I'd been around you back in your mercenary days if you knew men like that." Isabela drawled. "We could have had such fun!"  
"That sounds painful." Merrill said. "Isn't that painful?"  
"Part of the pleasure, Kitten." Isabela told the elf.  
"I feel completely inadequate now." Hawke sighed. Anders agreed, though he wasn't going to say so. He'd never had any complaints about sizing in that department, at least that he knew of.  
"Oh, no, Garrett, you don't have to worry, you're just fine, more than fine, definitely bigger than others." Eve told him, which had everybody laughing as he turned bright red.  
"I think I'm in love with drunk Eve." Isabela swooned.  
"She's certainly given me some interesting writing material." Varric agreed. "But she still shouldn't have drunk all of the contents of that bottle."  
"It's fine." Eve started to say, and then her eyes went a little wide. "Um, actually, I do feel a little strange..."  
"Are you alright?" Anders leant towards her, hoping she wasn't going to vomit.  
"I think," she blinked several times. "I think..." Then her eyes rolled in to the back of her head and she fell face first in to Anders lap. Completely unconscious.  
"Brilliant." He muttered. "Anyone want to help get drunky here up to her bed?" He asked.  
"Can we undress her?" Isabela asked.  
"No!" Anders and Hawke both said at the same time.  
"I can take her." Sebastian offered.  
"She'd kill me for saying this, but she actually isn't that light, you know." Anders said. The woman was all muscle and long limbs.  
Sebastian just smiled, heaved her up and threw her over his shoulder. "She's not too heavy." He told them, heading for the stairs.  
"She is never going to live this down." Hawke moaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
"Give her a break." Isabela elbowed him. "She needed to let her hair down, she doesn't do it often... or ever."

Anders followed after Sebastian, he knew the man was a Chantry Brother, but he didn't trust him alone with an unconscious Eve.  
She was quickly settled on her bed and snoring lightly. Anders hoped the alcohol would give her a dreamless sleep for once, but knew it was unlikely. She suffered relentlessly from nightmares so often that it had become normal for her to sleep little and expect them when she had no choice but to rest.  
"So... Eve and Fenris? It is true?" Sebastian asked quietly.  
"Apparently." Anders whispered. He didn't think his and Eve's conversation had been quiet enough "He didn't deserve her affections."  
"He does seem troubled."  
"That's one word for it. She deserves more than he could give her anyway."  
"Like you?" Sebastian asked.  
"No. Not me."  
"Well, it seems we agree on one thing then."  
"Ha! And you're a better choice are you? Ex-prince and Chantry Brother? I don't think Eve would settle for celibacy." He scoffed.  
"I didn't say that. Though if things were different..."  
"They're not." Anders snapped at him. "And besides, she fell for royalty before. She wouldn't make that mistake again."  
Sebastian just shook his head. "Come on. Let us leave her to sleep." He told Anders.  
"Yeah." Anders pulled a blanket from the foot if the bed over her sleeping form and fought the urge to kiss her goodnight.  
What did this woman do to attract so many fools? Something about her made men want to throw themselves at her feet, yet she still chose the ones that offered nothing but a one night stand or broke her heart.


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

Thank you to Musicalrain for all your reviews and thank you to all my new followers and those that favourite, it's so very appreciated!  
Also, this is a definite 'M' chapter...  
OoW

Chapter 31

The day after the party Eve woke up feeling like she'd died. Her head pounded, her stomach rolled with sickness, her mouth tasted like she'd licked darkspawn arse and she couldn't remember anything much past Fenris storming out when he refused her help.  
She only felt better when Anders popped by and healed her epic hangover. But then he started talking. Her proposition of Varric, talking about a past acquaintances large appendage and praising Garrett's own equipment, being carried up to bed by Sebastian, oh, and apparently letting pretty much everyone know she had slept with Fenris. Fuck.  
She spent the whole day in her room berating her stupidity and drunkenness.

The next day she was at the Barracks in the Keep helping out Aveline, and for the time being she tried to forget about her embarrassment. She had agreed to help train a selection of Aveline's guards. Some of them apparently were not as skilled as they should be with a weapon or did not fight well in a unit. So she was going to teach them the Warden way of training. Maybe if they were better trained Garrett wouldn't be the one the Viscount and everyone else ran to, to sort things out.

She stood in front of a group of twenty guards. A mix of men and woman, the youngest only about eighteen, the oldest mid-thirties, all eyes on her.  
"Pair up. I need to see what your strengths and weaknesses are." She told them all sternly. She watched as they went off in twos in the training yard. "Get on with it then." She told them sharply when they stood there motionless. "Fight!"  
She looked at their stances. Some of them were fine, but some, like a blonde woman, were terrible.  
Eve walked up beside her and easily pushed her over. Everyone stopped to look wide eyed, while the woman burned red with embarrassment sprawled out on her arse.  
"Don't lock your knees when you're dual wielding. You need to be more mobile. If you lock your knees, you'll get pushed off balance and then you'll have a sword through your gut or your face." She told her. "Carry on."

She walked around some more. One, a young man, barely into adulthood was hacking his opponent with a great sword like he was chopping wood.  
"You're leaving yourself wide open for an attack," she growled at him, irritated. "And you're not chopping bloody wood!" She shoved him roughly out the way to face his partner. A man in his late twenties, well over six and a half feet tall, a thick head of chestnut hair and brown eyes to match. She unsheathed her sword. "Watch me,"  
"Err, no offence ma'am." Her opponent said, eyebrows raised, "but well, I'm a fair bit bigger than you. I don't want to hurt you."  
Eve barked a laugh. "You think you get to choose your opponents in life, Guardsman...?"  
"Guardsman Ramond."  
"Ramond. Because you don't. You need to know how to fight those smaller and those larger than you. Ready?"  
He smiled at her, which only made her want to wipe that smile off his face. "Always."  
She attacked, hard, fast, light on her feet, relentless, powerful swings. In only a few moments she had Ramond on the floor, his weapon out of reach, foot on his chest and her sword at his throat.  
Everyone was clapping. "Ha! Bigger they are, harder they fall, Ramond!" Someone called out.  
She ignored them, stepped away from the Guardsman and held out her hand to help him up. He accepted with a meek look on his flushed face. By the Void he was heavy!  
"You see," she turned to the boy, "swing like the sword is an extension of you, but don't hold it so hard that any strike to your blade travels up your arms rending them useless."  
The boy nodded furiously. She turned back to Ramond. "And don't underestimate your opponents because of their size. I've seen a single dwarf take down an ogre before, and though you're not far off the size of an ogre," He raised an eyebrow at her, "you're nowhere near as difficult to fell."  
"Yes ma'am." He replied.  
"Good." She nodded and walked away, waving her hand for them all to continue.

Several hours later, the guards all complaining of tiredness and soreness, Eve and Aveline called it a day. The Guard-Captain was very impressed with the improvements made; Eve had been happy to help and offered to come back again if Aveline wanted her to. It was better than sitting around feeling sorry for herself and drinking as she'd spent much of her time doing in the month since her night with Fenris. She was fed up of feeling heartsick over the elf she had been so ready to be with until he started stuttering on about it being 'too fast and too much'. Well screw him. She was a fool, again, to think he'd want more. No one ever did. But Maker, how she wished he had.  
Seeing him was so painful now, the sight of the handsome elf squeezed her chest so she could barely breathe. She missed him. Just talking and drinking as they had done. She hadn't done that with anyone in such a relaxed way for so long. His gift the other night had been surprising, hope flared in her heart that he really did care, that he had remembered such a trivial comment about her love of the night sky set her heart pounding, until he spat cruel words at her when she tried to help him after he smashed a bottle in his fist. He really didn't feel anything for her, that was obvious now and Eve was determined to not be so foolish again. At least he hadn't broken promises like a certain Fereldan King had. That would have been worse. She only had herself to blame this time.

She was made her way through the Keep back to Garrett's estate where she was now staying. It was... nice there. To be around him and Leandra, good food, hot baths, clean bedding. She still felt she was relying too much on their goodwill, so she still saved money in case she had to find lodgings of her own or return to the Hanged Man. But it was good to be out of the Inn, even if she missed Varric and Isabela just a bit.  
She was halfway down the stairs when she heard heavy footsteps behind her.  
"Err, ma'am?" A deep voice called out. She turned to see it was the guardsman she fought earlier. Ramond.  
"Yes Guardsman?" She turned to him, having to look up to give him eye contact. Her voice stern and hard.  
"I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink sometime?" He asked, a smile on his lips.  
"A drink?" She repeated slowly, perplexed. Was he... asking her out for a drink?  
"Yes, maybe at the Hanged Man? Or the Comely Wyvern?" He suggested. "I'll buy of course."  
"I'm not sure that's a good idea." She told him.  
"Ah, you already have a suitor then?" He rumbled disappointed. "Should have guessed..."  
"No. I don't. But, I don't really do... drinks." How in the Void do you tell someone you don't know that you don't court? "I'm not looking for anything serious."  
"Who says it has to be serious?" He told her, his voice dropping even lower, dark eyes boring in to her. "You're an attractive woman. You know how to handle a weapon," was that sexual innuendo? "You had me at your feet quick enough. Maybe we could just... see where a drink takes us?"  
Eve knew she should say no. She was still completely hung up on Fenris, still couldn't get that night out of her mind. But she was pissed off with feeling that way. He'd made himself perfectly clear. It was done with. And well, Ramond wasn't bad to look at all. Tall, broad and heavily muscled, a strong square jaw with the lightest amount of dark stubble, short hair well groomed. He was only a few years older than her she guessed.  
"Meet me at the Hanged Man at nine. And stop calling me ma'am, it's Eve." She told him briskly and turned away quickly before she could listen to the voice of reason in her head and tell him no.

She was late turning up at the Hanged Man, almost retreating back to Garrett's estate twice on her way. She decided against her armour, especially as she, Garrett and the others had spent many nights clearing the gangs from Hightown and Lowtown recently, making the streets relatively safe. She had on similar attire that she'd worn at her housewarming party. Tight leather trousers, black shirt, red corset, knee high leather boots. Her hair was long enough now that it hung just over her shoulders in thick waves. She had just pulled a brush through it after her bath earlier on. She'd even lined her eyes in kohl and reddened her lips figuring she may as well make the effort.

She stepped in to the Hanged Man, assaulted by the stench of ale, piss and vomit. It was funny how two days away from the place had made her unused to the stink.  
She gazed across the room. Varric wasn't around, Garrett had mentioned he was going to Sundermount with Merrill and a couple of the others for something to do with the blood mages eluvhian, the storyteller was probably with them. She spotted Isabela in the far corner, leaning forward suggestively, and recognised the man the pirate had cornered.  
She walked over. "Ramond." She greeted him, the look of relief on his face was palpable when he fixed his eyes on her.  
"Oh, Eve, don't tell me this large, delicious specimen of a man is yours?" Isabela purred, turning to look at her. "Lucky sod!"  
"Hmm, yes, thank you." Eve replied.  
"I meant he's lucky." Isabela looked at Ramond again. "Mmm, he's so big" She murmured, before sashaying away to her perch at the bar bidding them a fun night.  
"Sorry I'm late." Eve told Ramond as she sat next to him.  
"It's fine. Wasn't sure you'd come actually." He pushed a cup of something that smelled like whiskey towards her. "Didn't take you as the ale type," he told her with a grin. "You look great, by the way."  
"Thanks," she smiled at him. "For the compliment and the drink." She looked him over. He was wearing a white shirt that fell loosely over his broad chest, a waist length tunic in dark blue over the top, and black breeches that fit snugly over his muscular thighs. "You look good too." She told him. It was true after all. "Hope Isabela wasn't too much of a bother." She nodded towards the captain.  
"No, but she didn't seem to take the hint I wasn't interested."  
"She never does."  
"She's just not my type. Too obvious. I like my women a bit more aloof. It's more fun."  
Eve snorted before taking a sip of her drink. Not bad. Strong and smooth going down. At least he wasn't buying the cheap stuff.  
"That just makes you sound like a glutton for punishment."  
"I like a challenge." He said turning towards her. "So, you're Fereldan then?"  
"Raised there. I was born in the Free Marches actually."  
"My mother was a Free Marcher. My father was Orlesian."  
"That explains the Orlesian name then."  
"Yeah, my fathers. Suppose it could be worse, they called my brother Archembault, after our grandfather."  
"Yeah, that's... that's pretty unfortunate." Eve couldn't help but chuckle.  
They continued for some time talking, or rather, Ramond talked and Eve listened. She learnt his parents lived in Orlais now, his brother a few years older than him, had a wife and several children whom he supported as a blacksmith. Ramond enjoyed being a guardsman, took extra shifts when he could. Spoke fluent Orlesian but couldn't stand how 'snooty' most Orlesians were.  
He was a terrible flirt. He had edged closer and closer to Eve during the evening, finding any opportunity to compliment her, his legs now rested close to hers, a tendril of her hair being smoothed through his fingers. He'd been buying her drinks all evening, and though she wasn't drunk, she felt good. Warm. Definitely aroused.  
Ramond was a good looking man. Long straight nose, well-proportioned lips, almond shaped eyes that were definitely looking at her lustily. She could definitely do worse, and there was no doubt in her mind this would be no strings attached sex if it led to that. She was even starting to think about Fenris less. Not forgetting him, no chance of that, but at this moment, pressed close to a hot body that was definitely not the lithe muscled form of the elf, the scent of whiskey and cologne instead of wine and steel surrounding her, skin that was not the colour of wheat or laced with lyrium tattoos, yes, she could just pretend she didn't feel such hurt inside.

Ramond started to press a kiss to her throat. Eve's lids dropping with the mixture of drink and fervour in her blood, before she heard Garrett's voice as he barrelled through the door.  
"A Varterral? I didn't think I'd ever see one of those. Damn, I need a drink! Corff! A drink for me and all my companions to toast our victory! Post haste!" He sounded like he was drunk already.  
"I think you drank too many lyrium potions, Hawke. You need to relax." Varric commented. "Hey, is that Deadly?" Shit. "Deadly! Hey, want to hear how we slayed a mythological beast for a Dalish hammer!" He called loudly.  
"It is not a hammer, Varric, it's an Arulin'Holm!" Merrill protested.  
Eve growled. The. Worst. Timing. Ever.

She looked up to see Garrett, Varric, Merrill and, oh, Fenris, approaching the corner she and Ramond were occupying.  
"Varric." She greeted.  
"Didn't realise you had company, Deadly." The dwarf said. Eve refused to look at Fenris who loitered in the background.  
"I'm Ramond." Her... whatever he was, stood and held out his hand.  
"Andraste's tits, Deadly! He's the size of a Qunari!" Varric laughed. Ramond just smiled. "Nice to meet you, Ramond was it? So, how do you and Deadly know each other. You were both looking, ah, rather well acquainted there."  
"I'm one of the guards she was training today." He explained.  
"Ha! You certainly move fast!" The dwarf exclaimed as Eve rolled her eyes.  
Then she saw Garrett glance behind him to Fenris, who she couldn't help but look at. His face was like thunder. In fact she had never seen him so angry, which in turn made her angry. Was he judging her when he had made it clear their night together meant nothing? He had no right!  
"You want to join us for a drink?" Garrett asked. "I totally kicked Varterral arse!" He was swaying on his feet a little.  
"No. Thank you." Eve told him, trying not to sound angry. "Ramond and I were just leaving." She got up from her seat and started walking away. "I'll see you all later." She told them heading for the exit, Ramond hot on her heels. She passed Fenris, he wasn't looking at her, he was just staring with pure unadulterated rage at Ramond, who appeared oblivious. His clawed hands curled in to trembling fists.  
She said nothing, but as she left heard Varric say in a calming tone. "What do you expect, Broody? You made your intentions clear."  
What did he expect indeed!

"So, where now?" Ramond asked suddenly when they were out in the damp night air.  
"How about a night cap at mine?" She suggested. Anger, hurt, desire and frustration heating her blood in equal parts. She needed distraction. Soon.  
"That sounds great." He replied, his voice dropping an octave.

She walked quickly to Garrett's estate, Ramond easily keeping the pace.  
"You live here?" He asked as they entered the mansion. It was late enough Leandra and everyone else were asleep.  
"It's not mine. A friends. I'm staying here for the time being."  
"It's big." He told her looking around at the foot of the stairs. "So, what's this 'night cap' you were offering?" He asked suggestively.  
"Actually," she stepped towards him, the husky tone of her voice quickly grabbing his attention. She put a hand on one of his large biceps, sliding it up the rough cotton material of his shirt to rest on a very broad shoulder. "I can think of something a lot more pleasant than a drink." She told him.  
He quickly bent his head to capture her mouth, his large hands sliding around her waist to firmly grip her backside, before he lifted her weight. Eve hooked her legs around his waist, the breath going out of her at her surprise of being lifted so easily. He moved his mouth away from hers and kissed his way down her throat, to the tops of her breasts, sucking and nipping the skin roughly leaving red welts in his wake.  
"Up the stairs. Hallway on the left. Room at the far end." She panted heavily, as he nodded against her chest. She wasn't going to do this without a locked door to stop any possible interruptions.

He carried her with ease to the room, barely letting his attentions wander from her breasts as every jostle had her rubbing against the hardness in his breeches. As soon as they were in her room, he dropped her softly to the floor as she quickly locked the door. Then turned around, making quick work of her clothing so she stood fully nude before Ramond. She wasn't going to lose a good set of undergarments to a meaningless fuck.  
He stood watching her, his eyes large and dark in the shadowy room, licking his lips in appreciation. She glided over to him before pushing him towards the high bed to sit on the edge before her. In this position he was still tall, his eyes level with her naked breasts. Without a word he took a nipple in his mouth, his right hand slid up her inner thighs to stroke her. Fenris had not touched her there, she had just assumed he wasn't sure how, and it wasn't like she had needed the attentions, he had been so very attentive elsewhere. But Ramond quickly had her writhing and moaning, gripping his shoulders tightly so she didn't slide to the floor. His thick fingers were skillful, and soon he plunged one large digit in to her.  
"Maker." He breathed around one of nipples before he pushed another finger in. Stroking, thrusting forcefully. Eve found it easy to forget everything but the feel of his fingers. But soon she wanted more and held his wrist still.  
"Clothes off now." She demanded.  
He was quick to comply. She could see he was very much ready for her. He wasn't longer than Fenris, a little shorter, but his girth was wider. This would be... interesting.  
She climbed atop of him, his length was pressed between the hard flesh of their stomachs. Ramond groaned underneath her, the friction of their movements obviously rubbing him the right way.  
Eve pulled away, and raised herself above him, her hand curling around his hardened flesh, pumping him slowly. He moaned loudly, sinking further into her bed. She began to guide him to her entrance. She needed this. Needed something that wasn't Fenris, that didn't feel like him, look like him, taste or smell like him. To help her forget him for at least a little while. It was a pattern that had started after Alistair had told her she was only good enough to be his mistress.  
Ramond grabbed her hips, letting her settle on to him at her own pace. She was glad for that, he was too big just to spear herself on his length. She had him where she needed him and slowly sunk down on his erection. She bit her lip as he stretched out her tight walls. A ragged moan spilling from her mouth at the mixture of pain and pleasure.  
"Fuck." He groaned loudly, his hands going to her hips.  
Finally she settled on Ramond, his length fully submerged within her, and began to move. Slowly at first as she adjusted to him, then quicker. He felt good. But it was still not enough, not rough enough, not mind numbing enough. He moaned lewdly under her, thrusting up roughly.  
"Take me from behind." She ordered him. He opened his eyes to look at her, a smile on his lips.  
"Maker, yes." He breathed fervidly as if she'd just made a fantasy of his reality.  
She clambered off of him to kneel on the end of the bed. He scrambled quickly to stand behind her, running his hands over her round backside, pulling her wide.  
"Knew you'd like it rough." He growled before he pushed himself inside. "Ah." He sighed loudly. "So fucking tight. So wet, you feel so good."  
Eve wished he would just shut up and fuck her, so she pulled away and then pushed herself roughly back on him.  
He understood then, meeting her thrust for thrust. Hard, fast, deep. His hands found her breasts, pinching her nipples roughly, her back arching at the sensations of it all. Moans fell unguarded from her mouth. Ramond groaned and cursed behind her. His right hand travelled over her round breasts, along her toned stomach to the juncture of her thighs. He slipped his hand between her soaked folds, finding that sensitive nub, already swollen and thrumming from pleasure. He stroked and pinched her proficiently in time with his thrusts. Her moans turned to wails as she came closer to the edge, moving harder and faster against him, until finally she came trembling and crying out loudly her nails tearing at the bed sheets.  
She felt Ramon pull out quickly.  
"Fuuuuuck!" He bellowed, before Eve felt the hot fluid of his climax on her rear. It wasn't her favoured way of finishing, but how was he to know she was as barren as a desert.

He collapsed panting to the bed as Eve grabbed a cloth from her nightstand to clean his pleasure from her backside, before she too collapsed on her back.  
"That was incredible." He told her breathing heavily. "You were incredible."  
"Hmm, you too." She replied, an arm draped over her eyes.  
She felt him move from the bed beside her. "Maybe we could do this again sometime?" He offered.  
"No strings attached?" She confirmed, moving her arm so she could look at him. "Just fucking?"  
Ramon chuckled, redressing. "I don't want anything serious, but I like having a good time with a beautiful woman."  
"Sounds good." She told him. It did sound good. She was not a celibate woman, she could not go great lengths of time without sex, she never had, though such desires had been made worse by becoming a Grey Warden. Besides, who else was she going to relieve tension with? Fenris didn't want her. She didn't want to revisit the past with Garrett. Anders was just out of the question, even if he hinted and they teased each other, the whole Justice/Vengeance thing made her feel uneasy, like some demonic threesome. Varric, well, she was never going to get over propositioning him whilst drunk, and he was not interested in that anyway. And Sebastian was living a chaste life. Plus she didn't want to work her way around the group, that was tacky. At least Ramond was a good looking man with a decent occupation. Straight forward, skilled at giving pleasure and taking her commands. They were not romantically or emotionally involved, it was just relieving tension.

"You know how refreshing it is to find a woman like you who just gets straight to the point? No messing around?" He smiled at her.  
"They're usually called whores aren't they?" She quipped dryly.  
"If I wanted a whore I'd go to the Blooming Rose. I don't. I like women who choose to be with me, women like you." He told her firmly. "Let me know when you want to do this again. I'm usually at the barracks."  
"Will do."  
"I'll see myself out. Goodnight, Eve."  
"Goodnight." She bid him not rising from where she lay. She scooted up the bed and pulled the bed sheets over her. She'd sleep for a while, before the nightmares woke her, then she'd try to get through another day without thinking about Fenris.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter 32

Fenris was suffocating with anger. He didn't think anyone but his old master could inspire such feelings, but when he saw Eve in that corner of the Hanged Man, some brute of a human sitting close to her, his lips on her throat, his hands on her, Fenris had never felt such sudden fury and hate for someone who was not Danarius.

They had left together. The guardsman reeked of desire for Eve, his eyes following her long legs and firm backside as she walked out. Fenris wanted to pull out his insides and strangle him with them.

"What did you expect, Broody? You made your intentions clear." Varric told him. The truth in his words only made his anger more intense.  
"I'm sure nothing's going on." Hawke said, "He's probably just going to... walk her back to the estate." Even he sounded unconvinced.  
"Doubt it, sweetness." Isabela sidled up to them, reeking of rum. "They were getting very cosy. And he has such large feet. She likes large feet." She chuckled dirtily.  
"You're not helping, Isabela!" Hawke told her sternly.  
"I wasn't trying to." She turned to Fenris. "You had a good thing there you know, really good and you blew it. Now she's going to do what any sane person would, forget about how she feels about you by feeling someone else's cock inside her."  
"Venhadis! Wench!" He growled at her, his tattoos flaring brightly and painfully. She didn't know what she was talking about.  
"You can always try and forget her yourself, I'm more than willing to help with that," she purred, jutting out her chest in his direction while Hawke looked at her with a mixture of hurt and anger on his face.  
"I need a drink." The mage mumbled before walking up to the bar.  
"Come on, Broody. Let me buy you a something strong." Varric offered but he didn't hear him, rage flooding his veins at Isabela's words, Varric's words, Eve's ability to apparently forget him so completely with a man she'd only just met. He stormed from the Hanged Man, blisteringly furious.

He found himself outside Hawke's estate only minutes later. He hadn't even known he was walking there until he was stood outside the door, staring at it as if he could open it with his scowl.  
This was pointless, being here did nothing to make him feel better. It was quiet from inside though. Maybe Hawke was right, maybe that hulking guardsman had just walked to her home, or she had stormed off without him?  
It sounded plausible, but he couldn't tell, couldn't be sure... unless... He could just look in her window; prove his anger was not necessary. Her room was at the far left and rear of the mansion. It would be easy enough to scale the wall, the roof. There was a large ledge just outside her window he could perch on silently, he would see for himself she was alone and then leave.

He climbed quietly up the trellis that covered most of the walls of the estate, the thick growth of clematis only made it marginally more difficult to traverse until he reached the roof. He walked lightly towards where he knew her window to be, before dropping carefully beside it on the ledge.

Fenris heard them before he saw them. Eve's breathy moans he'd seared to his memory carried harshly through the small gap in the window. His heart stilled as he heard her, his throat constricted, his stomach twisted. Such pain he felt like nothing before to hear such sounds from her mouth not caused by him.  
He couldn't stop himself then. He had to look. He peered in, making out the shape of her and that bastard in the dark room.  
He watched as the guardsman sat before Eve, as she writhed and moaned under his manipulations, his mouth on those large perfect breasts as he pleasured her with his fingers. Fenris had done no such thing, unsure how to touch her, or any woman, there, afraid to show his lack of experience, and he had just been so eager to be inside her, joined with her.  
This man, this Ramond, seemed to know what he was doing, and he watched as she ordered him undressed, climbing on top of him, but at least he didn't have to see her lips, those lovely red, sensual lips against this strangers.

Fenris growled, not wanting to see this, but unable to stop. Feeling like he'd be sick at any moment, but torturing himself with the fact he'd pushed her to this, pushed her away, that this was his punishment.  
He saw the guardsman take her from behind, and Fenris could not take his eyes from her face, how tight she closed her eyes. How her lips formed moans and cries and her long fingers clutched at the sheets beneath her.  
She finished loudly. The guardsman shortly after. The coupling had been rough. Their own had been too, but also tender. She had called Fenris's name to the night and it had never sounded so good as it had in her rich voice. He had called her beautiful, not that she knew so, for he was only brave enough to say such things in Tevene.  
They had fallen asleep beside each other, but he saw Ramond leave almost straightaway, telling her they should 'do this again', that it was to be nothing but meaningless, and she had agreed. Fenris hated that man almost as much as Danarius in that moment.

He should have just left then, resigned himself to loss. But he watched her sleep, restlessly, for what could only have been half an hour, before waking up, limbs flailing, eyes crazed, before she obviously realised where she was.  
She reached over to her nightstand; he saw her pull a piece of black, material from inside a book. Just a ragged bit of linen she twined through her fingers. Wait, not just any ragged bit of linen, it was from his shirt, he was sure. The one he had ripped on her armour the night they had been together. She must have kept it. Why had she kept it?  
She ran it through her fingers, silent, and a thoughtful look upon her face. Venhadis, she was so beautiful.

He couldn't watch anymore as she put back that bit of material in her book and got out of bed to do whatever she did when she couldn't sleep.  
He had done this. Let her leave, let her think he didn't want her, that he didn't want more than just one night. Pushed her to seek pleasure and escape with some uncaring mammoth of a man. He did not deserve her. She deserved better. Better than him, better than Ramond, or Anders or any other worthless fool that caught her attention or affection.

He creeped back to his own mansion in the deep dark silence of night, his thoughts on Eve, they were almost always on Eve. Playing over and over in his mind the night they had shared, remembering her touch, caress, kiss. A sweet torment he revisited nearly every night, wishing he could be with her again.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter 33

Eve's arrangement with Ramond had been continuing for the last two months.  
They had seen each other a handful of times, at least once a week depending on how busy they were. He'd either turn up late at night at the estate and Eve would let him in or have Bodahn send him away if she wasn't in the mood, but that had only happened the once. She was always in the mood, always tense, always angry, always thinking about Fenris. It was hard not to, the elf was always around it seemed, like he was purposely punishing her with what she couldn't have. So close yet so far.  
Sometimes she'd feel so frustrated over him or some other foolish thing and she would have a messenger deliver a message to Ramond at the Barracks and wait for him to arrive.  
He always came when she called. She always came not long after. She enjoyed how rough it was, how there was no tenderness, how he wasn't like Fenris at all. They hardly bothered with pointless niceties and they didn't sit drinking with each other. It was just straight forward fucking.

That morning she had been on the verge of sending him a message, had even got so far as writing it out in the library, until Garrett came barrelling down the stairs asking for her help with some half-elf boy mage called Feynriel who was stuck in the Fade. Garrett told her they'd have to enter the Fade with the help of the Dalish Keeper of Merrill's old clan, and since she'd been there before, several times, he could really use her help. She'd agreed because he'd pleaded so pitifully.

They picked up Fenris from his mansion, he'd look slightly startled to see her, had mumbled a 'hello' with a good dose of scowling. The normal way he treated her now.  
They met Varric at the Hanged Man on their way to the Alienage to meet Keeper Marethari and the boy's mother, Arianni.

She walked at the rear of the group, Varric and Garrett chatted about inconsequential things, while Fenris stayed his usual silent, broody self. Eve couldn't help but gaze at his lithe, muscular form, his long legs, his muscular backside, his...  
"Eve? Eve?" Garrett was saying.  
"Sorry?" Shit, she'd been daydreaming.  
"I think Deadly is being distracted by a certain angsty elf." Varric chuckled, earning a confused look from Fenris. Eve glared at the dwarf.  
"What is it Garrett?" Eve sighed.  
"I was asking if you had any advice for entering the Fade since you've done it before."  
"You're a mage, Garrett, you go there all the time, what advice can I give you?"  
"I don't go in these kinds of circumstances, in someone else's Fade. You have."  
"What, so you want me to advise you on the obvious, like don't deal with demons?"  
"Sound advice." Fenris agreed.  
"I knew that already." Garrett smirked at her.  
"Look, I don't know this Feynriel boy, but if it's the Fade of his making it could be anything, don't believe any of it, it'll trick you, confuse you and anything there, good or bad, will be able to see the innermost depths of your soul. Even dwarves, Varric. It'll seem even stranger to you."  
"Got it." The dwarf nodded at her.  
"It'll be fine. I've been there before, though not by choice, and I'm still here."  
"Why does that sound ominous, Deadly?"  
"It's always ominous." Garrett groaned. "Let's go find Marethari then and get this over with."

They met the Dalish Keeper outside Feynriel's mother's house. She didn't seem too fussed with speaking to anyone but Garrett, walking him to a quiet corner to talk with him in private.  
"Thank you all for helping." Arianni said to Eve, Fenris and Varric in an anxious voice. "I'm so worried about my boy, I'm just so glad Hawke said he would help." She pandered.  
"That's Hawke, he's a damn saint!" Varric laughed.  
Fenris said nothing. Eve knew what he was thinking, probably along the same lines she was; leave the boy to his fate if he was too weak to master his powers. But she didn't say it, he was still this woman's son and she was worried for him, walking back and forth through her small home, wringing her hands and looking expectantly at Garrett and the Keeper.

Eve saw them finally stop talking and they walked over.  
"These are the ones you wish to take with you?" Marethari asked in a soft yet stern voice. She was so small and wiry. Eve found it hard to believe she was charged with looking after the elves of Merrill's old clan. She looked she couldn't raise a staff without keeling over. Still, at least she didn't appear to be like Zathrian. Bloody twisted lying elf.  
"Yes. If they still want to?" Garrett said looking worriedly at them.  
"I won't pretend I'm excited about entering the fade, Hawke," Varric smiled. "But I've got your back. So has Bianca"  
"It is not a place for mortals to walk, but you have requested my help and my blade is yours." Fenris said solemnly. Maker, his voice was so decadent.  
"It's practically a second home now." Eve shrugged.  
Garrett smiled in relief. "I'd say 'what's the worst that could happen', but..."  
"Yeah. The worst always does." She sighed.

Marethari stepped forward. "If everyone can lie down I can start the ritual to send you all to the Beyond. I have told Hawke the dangers you will undoubtedly face. Feynriel is a powerful mage and as such will attract many demons. Once you have found him and he is no longer in the Beyond he has created, you will be free to return, as if waking from a deep slumber. Be on your guard and may the Dread Wolf not turn his gaze upon you. Dareth shiral."  
Arianni showed them to thin bedrolls that had been laid out on the floor for them. Somehow she found herself between Fenris and Garrett. She felt awkward lying so close to the elf, far too much of a reminder of when she had laid with him in his bed. She made sure to keep her eyes fixed on the ceiling above her so she could pretend he wasn't there.

The times before that Eve had been sent to the fade she had not gone willingly. She had been forced there, first by a sloth demon, second by a talking darkspawn at the behest of the Mother. There were no beds or the soft elven words to soothe her entry like now.  
She closed her eyes so she wasn't distracted by how the Dalish Keeper walked around them, focusing solely on the words, her heavy limbs, the ever increasing sleepiness...

Her eyes flew open and she found herself in the familiar hue of the Fade. It always felt like her body was one step behind her mind, as if she was moving through thick mud. She looked to the sky. The Black City was there as usual, a twisted landmark always hovering in the distance.  
"This is bloody horrible." Varric complained to her left, having just appeared. "Is this the shit you humans and elves have to deal with every time you sleep? It's wrong!"  
"Only mages remember it. The rest of us just have dreams, same as you." Eve told him.  
"Why are we in the Gallows?" Garrett said from behind her. "Feynriel has never been here, he lives with Dalish."  
"This is a place of twisted visions, let us be quick." Fenris growled at her right, his sword already in his grasp.  
"Right." Garrett agreed. "I don't want to stay too long, I'm used to the Fade but this is creeping me out."

They followed Garrett through the Fade's version of the Gallows, soon coming across a sloth demon.  
"Interesting, I thought I felt the presence of another mage here. I don't like surprises, but this one... has potential." It exclaimed in the slow drawl Eve could never forget from her time in the Circle of Magi. It oozed towards them as if made of gelatinous liquid.  
"Leave us, demon." Fenris spat at the creature. But it ignored him and turned to Garrett.  
"You may call me Torpor. I have a proposition for you, human. You will wish to hear it."  
"Don't listen to it, Garrett." Eve hissed at him. "Just kill it!"  
"Quiet." It looked at Eve for a moment, she felt a strange sensation in her head, as if something was rifling through her thoughts. "We know of this one." It growled at her, that glowing orb of an eye in the middle of its head staring at her. "It has destroyed many of my brethren. Powerful spirits. You are not welcome here."  
"Neither are you." She told it with a snarl.  
"I only want the boy. You would do well to listen to my generous offer." It replied, turning its attentions back to Garrett. "Let me take the powerful one and you in turn will be rewarded with great power of your own. He is already weak of mind, others want him too. Let me have him and you can leave unharmed."  
"What, so you can turn him in to an abomination?" Garrett told Torpor sternly. "No! I won't let you!"  
"Fools, all of you!" It shouted at them. "You will regret this!"  
Torpor attacked, raising other lesser demons to its side.  
Eve's sword connected with a demon that was flying towards Garrett. Fighting them was not difficult, despite being in their realm, and her sword cut through demon after demon that came after her until only Torpor was left. As Garrett froze it, a striking blow from Fenris through its midsection shattered the monster to nothing.  
"That won't be the last one I fear." Fenris muttered, stepping away from where Torpor had been destroyed, only a dark stain on the stone.  
"It never is." Eve agreed, quickly avoiding Fenris's eyes when he turned to look at her. She couldn't look at them, not even this misty Fade version of them, all she saw was those two lovely green circles staring down from above her, so close, so full of longing. She couldn't bear to see how they looked at her with emptiness now.  
"Hmm, so, left or right, Hawke?" Varric asked cutting through the silence, nodding to the doors on each side of them, eerie blue light glowing from the rooms beyond. "Apparently we get a choice. I'm guessing we won't be fortunate and go through the first one to find Feynriel just waiting to wake up?"  
"No chance, unless we actually start getting lucky!" Garrett chuckled. "Let's try... right. It's as good as any."

They walked to the door in silence, Eve could hear nothing beyond.  
"Ready?" Garrett asked his hand on the door.  
She and the other two nodded, weapons to hand. Garrett pushed the door open and they entered.  
A boy, Feynriel Eve guessed, was sat at a table with an older man who was teaching him to write, completely caught up in the fabrication a demon had spun for him  
He looked up at their approach, his eyes only falling on Garrett. "Mother?" He asked uncertainly.  
Mother? Apparently Garrett had been caught up in the vision too and looked to Feynriel to be Arianni. Even Eve couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her at anyone who thought Garrett, at over six foot, fairly muscled, and a short beard, could be mistaken for a female elf. She heard Varric laugh too, at least it wasn't just her.  
"Father says he's going to take me away to Antiva with him, he's going to make me his apprentice!" He said excitedly.  
"That's right, Feynriel, I'll have you scribing my letters in no time." The apparition of his father said in a thick Antivan accent.  
"Your father never wanted you. He abandoned you. Don't trust him." Garrett told him in a voice that echoed with the tones if Arianni.  
"Wait… no..." The boy looked confused.  
"Don't listen to her, she's lying. She has always wanted to be rid of you so she could go back to the People." His 'father' told him.  
"You know that's not true, Feynriel. Think about it." Garrett urged.  
"She's... right. I spent my whole childhood waiting for you. She was the one who taught me to write so I could write to you. But you never wrote back." His voice was bereft at the truth unravelling. "Who are you?"  
"You... **will**... listen to... ME!" The man growled, changing from its false form to its true state. A demon of desire and Feynriel cried out in fear, running away and out of view from this part of the fade he had created.  
"You have ruined my fun." The demon breathed, running hands over its female form provocatively. "You took him away from me." It continued angrily.  
"He was not yours to have." Garrett told it, hand firmly on his staff.  
"Take away one of my pets... I'll take away one of yours. How quickly will they betray you when offered what they desire most?"  
"No one will betray me." Garrett told her, no doubt in his voice.  
It looked over them, one by one, a salacious smile on painted lips, before its otherworldly eyes fell on Eve.  
"Ah. The Warden." It exhaled in a breathy moan. "Yes. You are indeed well known amongst us and, ah, such delicious desires you have, mortal." It stepped towards her and Eve held her ground. She wouldn't back away from this thing. "Such sadness in you too. What if I offered you something you have tried to forget for so long? Take away the pain he left you with?"  
"What are you talking about demon? You think I won't just run you through with my sword?" Eve seethed.  
"Why are we wasting time? Kill it!" Fenris growled stepping forward.  
"No!" The demon shrieked, waving its arms out.  
"Shit, Hawke! I think we're stuck!" Varric yelled, his eyes wide.  
"You think?" Replied Garrett sarcastically.  
Eve tried to pull her feet from where she stood, but she too was immobile, only able to move her upper body. A paralysing hex.

The demon smiled and turned back to Eve. "Where were we? Oh yes... I think I can tempt you easily enough..." The air around the demon shimmered and changed, a thick smoke enveloping it before dissipating slowly until, standing in front of her was...  
"Alistair?" She choked out. She knew it wasn't, not really, but fuck, it looked just like him when they'd been together during the Blight. Standing a half foot over her, that pristine honey blond hair, the light dusting of stubble on his face, that bit of scruff on his chin, the broad shoulders, strong hands, that lopsided awkward smile and those warm amber eyes. She was struck speechless.  
"Eve." It - he - spoke, Maker it sounded just like him. "I'm so sorry Eve. I should never have let you go. I love you so much. You are everything to me."  
"Shut up," she whispered hoarsely as this Alistair approached, unable to look away.  
"I don't want to be King anymore. We'll go back to the Wardens, we'll be together like I promised." It was saying all the things she'd once hoped for, longed for. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted." He stood before her, a hand raised to touch her face.  
"No! Don't touch me! Get away from me!" She struggled to move away, but couldn't, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face away so she couldn't be taunted by this apparition.  
"Hmm, it seems this form no longer holds your most desired wish." She heard the demon say. "Maybe something a little more... recent."  
Oh, fuck, no. No, no, no. Not him. Not now, not with the real him watching.  
She felt a hand caress her face. A familiar hand, long calloused fingers, tenderly tracing the scar on her face liked he had done that night with is lips. She heard herself whimper pathetically. It wasn't him. He didn't want her.  
"I am sorry I let you go." His intense deep voice spoke close to her. "I can show you how much I want you."  
She opened her eyes to see Fenris before her, that lust filled gaze boring deep in to her soul, weakening her resolve. Why couldn't she have what she wanted just once? Would it be so bad?  
"Don't listen to it Eve!" Garrett shouted, but he sounded so far away.  
"I was... confused, that night. But I know what I want now. You. Only you." He told her, pressing himself against her, feeling like he had that night. She knew it wasn't him, it was wrong, she felt so weak, but so ready to indulge this fantasy. Maybe she could be happy for just a time.  
"You're stronger than this." She heard Garrett tell her. Was she really? She didn't feel like it. "Just kill it!"  
She couldn't reach her sword, but she could get the dagger she wore on her belt. She reached for it, unsheathing it, quickly holding it to the demons throat that wore Fenris's face.  
"You want me. I can tell." He, no, it, spoke again.  
"I can't..." She stuttered out. She felt confused. She dropped her hand from its throat "It's in my head!" She whimpered, feeling the thing combing her mind, showing her what she'd lost, what she could have again. To feel wanted, to be wanted, no longer pushed away. But it wasn't real, an imitation of the real Fenris. Still it showed her the yearnings of her body, of her heart. Relentless, cruel, she didn't want to see this anymore, couldn't be here anymore. She knew she had to escape, to wake up from this awful place.  
"You cannot pretend you don't want me!" It growled.  
She screamed in rage and despair, drowning in the tricks this demon was playing. It wouldn't stop till it had her. She raised her hand and dragged the blade of her dagger deeply and swiftly across her own throat. The pain lasted only a second before she felt the warm wash of blood on her skin.  
"Stop!" The demon shrieked. The spell that was holding her in place abruptly dispersing so Eve fell to the floor, slipping in her blood.  
She heard Garrett shout her name, Varric curse. But it was lost to her as she succumbed to a Fade death, cold and alone.

She woke quickly, panting, feeling revolted with herself.  
"Are you alright?" Arianni knelt at her side. "Is my boy safe?"  
"I, err," she mumbled, quickly standing up, the room spinning. "He will be. I need to go." She said, before rushing from the house, from the Alienage. Putting as much space between herself, that place, him, as she could.

She didn't know where she was going, everything passed by in a blur, until she crashed in to a large armoured chest, and almost falling to the ground until a large hand grasped her upper arm.  
"Whoa there!" A familiar voice spoke, "What are you running from... wait? Eve?"  
She looked up to see Ramond standing in front of her. Then looked around to see she was at the Docks, and it was late afternoon.  
"Oh, shit. Hello." She said, forcing herself to be calm. She still felt that demon in her head, touching her, the thickness of the Fade around her, stifling.  
"Are you alright? Is someone chasing you?" He asked, a hand going to his sword, looking behind her. Apparently he was on patrol.  
"No, no, I err, just," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. She could hardly tell him what happened.  
"You look like you've just seen a ghost."  
"Hah! No. No ghosts." She feigned amusement. Maker, she needed to feel and think of something other than what had just happened. "Are you on duty?" She asked, a thought suddenly popping in to her head. She was desperate, it was disgusting to be this desperate, to want to replace the demons touch with that of her occasional fuck, but she needed to feel something else.  
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, but... to the Void with it, there's nothing going on here that can't wait." A knowing grin on his face. "Follow me." He started to walk off, eagerly.

Eve followed him to a warehouse in a quiet back alley.  
"This was coterie storage for stolen goods until we got a tip off and closed it down. It's completely abandoned now." He said, pushing open the door and holding it for her. He closed the door behind them, moving a large crate in front. "So no one disturbs us." He smiled.  
Light streamed in from the high windows casting an orange glow in the warehouse, motes of dust danced in the air. It certainly wasn't classy, but Eve didn't care. She started taking off her armour, Ramond following suit, metal plate clanging the floor.  
She felt his arms snake around her as she finished removing her leggings, standing there in only her underthings.  
His hardness pressed into the cleft of her backside, her back firmly against his broad chest. Ramond's left hand curled around her left breast, squeezing firmly.  
He groaned loudly in to her neck, his mouth pressing wet kisses against her skin before biting down, hard, breaking the skin, painful enough to have her hissing. But she didn't tell him to stop, she didn't care if she felt pain or pleasure right now, she just wanted to feel something else.  
He removed his mouth from her, turning her around to face him and picked her up to sit on the edge of a crate behind her. He tore her smalls off with one hand, and began sucking a nipple through her thin brassiere, his teeth scraping the material and the hardened bud beneath.  
Eve wrapped her hand round his thick length, pumping firmly.  
"Maker!" He cried against her breast as she slid her hand up and down his erection.  
He thrust a finger inside her at the same speed she pleasured him, curling the digit inside her, stroking at that wonderful spot, making her moan long and loud. She rolled her hips in to his hand, splinters biting her backside. He'd pulled her right breast from its bindings, biting the nipple and surrounding flesh, bruising her. But she didn't care, it was the escape she wanted, to no longer feel that Maker damned Fade or that demon on her skin.  
Without a word he pulled away, and swiftly entered her on a hard and painful thrust, hooking her left leg over his shoulder to penetrate deeper. His left hand held her down on the crate, blunt finger nails digging in to the flesh of her shoulder.  
Eve could do nothing but take his powerful thrusts, as he bruised her inside and out, but still managing to bring her to an empty climax as he grunted and cursed with exertion, speeding up, before finally, with a wild cry of his own, pulled out and spilled his seed on her stomach.

The warehouse was filled only with the sounds of their heavy breathing as they cleaned up and redressed, leaving the warehouse in silence.  
"I think that may be the best patrol I've ever done." Ramond said grinning as they stood outside.  
Eve just gave him a half smile. She felt nothing but sore.  
"I need to get going." She told him. "Thanks for... you know."  
"I'll see you around sometime then." He continued to grin.  
She couldn't be bothered to reply, just gave another false smile and stalked off.  
She shouldn't have done that. She felt dirty and depraved, her pleasure had been empty, her skin still felt the lingering touch of that demon and she still couldn't get the visions she had been shown of Fenris out of her mind. She was repulsive. This wasn't her, what she did, dirty back alley trysts in the middle of the day that left her with bite marks on her throat and chest, dirt no doubt smudged on her face, her hair a mess.

Before long she found herself in front of the Hanged Man. She stood outside for a few minutes before deciding one drink couldn't hurt.  
It wasn't even evening yet, the place was empty, except for Varric coming down the stairs. Great.  
"What you doing here, Deadly?" He asked concerned. "Shit, you look like you've been in a fight. Go on up to my suite and take a seat, drinks are on me, I think you need it after today."  
She nodded silently, no point in arguing, he'd been there, seen what had happened. She'd have to face it sooner or later. With him, with Garrett. With Fenris.  
She sat down opposite the door, sinking in to the low chairs, before burying her head in her hands. Everything was such a fucking mess.  
Before she knew it the sound of a mug was placed on the table in front of her. She looked up to see Varric take a seat beside her.  
"I won't ask if you want to talk about it, 'cos you probably won't, right?" He said with a knowing smile.  
Eve took the mug in front of her, downing half before putting it back. "You saw what happened back there. It was fucking pathetic." She said in a hoarse voice.  
"It wasn't pathetic, though the slitting your throat bit was a little on the dramatic side even for me." He shook his head with a rueful smile. "But, shit Deadly, I can't blame you. What that demon did was damn wrong. Not that they play by any rules, but still."  
"I felt so weak. It was horrible. It was in my head, showing me visions of... well, you have an imagination, you can probably guess. And he fucking saw it all. He can't stand me already, he's probably glad we didn't carry on."  
"You're really not that bright sometimes, you know that?" Varric laughed, sipping his own drink.  
"Excuse me?" She asked crossly. What the fuck did he know anyway?  
"After you, err, left the Fade, he practically tore that demon to pieces with his bare hands, he was that angry. Cursing a right stream of Tevene obscenities too. He was mad with worry over you, and his face when it was pretending to be him, well, I've never seen such a regretful look on anyone before, damn near broke my heart."  
"Bollocks. He's been clear in how he feels about me."  
"Has he? 'Cos I'm pretty sure he hasn't. He's a bitter, angry, brooding, mage hating ex-slave. All he's done since being free is run and fight. Always looking over his shoulder for that Magister of his. And who are you? The bloody Hero of Fereldan! Warden-Commander of The Grey, Arlessa of Amaranthine,"  
"Was." Eve corrected.  
"Fine. Was. But that's who you are to him and everyone else who knows who you really are. People tell tales of you, write books about you, there's a Maker damned painting of you in Lirene's."  
Eve raised an eyebrow at that.  
"It's not a very good one, but still." He continued. "Men and woman, even with no knowledge of who you really are, look at you with lust and admiration. You've loved a King. Bottom line, Deadly, he doesn't feel worthy of you and is pushing you away because he thinks you can do better. Heh, you probably can, though I actually think you're good for each other. Like both your angers at the world cancel the others out."  
"I..." Eve started to say, but didn't know what to say. It made some sense, a lot of sense actually. But what was she supposed to do? Convince him he was worthy? Wait for him to realise that? Fuck, she wasn't even sure, despite her feelings for him, she could only give him anything more than a few years of intimacy before having to go to her Calling. He was the one that deserved more than that.  
"You're thinking too much." Varric told her. "And if you're worried about all that Fade shit, don't. I ended up turning on Hawke and Broody for the chance at vengeance on my brother." He looked solemnly in to his mug. "Fucking nug humping demons." He muttered. "So let's just get pissed and feel like shit in the morning."  
Eve couldn't help but think it was the best idea she'd heard all day, raising her mug to clink with his. "Here's to getting pissed." She downed the rest while Varric ordered another round.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter 34

Fenris sat in the corner or Varric's suite. He had a mug of wine in front of him, but he had not touched it, his eyes were fixed firmly on the door waiting for Eve to enter.  
He hadn't seen her since the Fade. The memory of that creature masquerading as him, speaking to her in his voice, words very much like the ones he wished he had, had the courage to say, forcing her to escape the madness by slitting her own throat, it all haunted him.  
When he had awoken, Hawke saving that fool boy and urging him to go to Tevinter to become yet another corrupted Magister, Eve had was gone. She hadn't even been at Hawke's when they'd walked back to Hightown together. He wondered for a moment if she was at his, a part of him hoping she would be, wanting him. But she wasn't there either. He'd heard she had spent the night in the dwarfs company, drinking heavily. At least she hadn't been with him, that Ramond.

Now everyone was at the Hanged Man except her.  
"Why the long face, Aveline?" Varric asked the Guard-Captain who was looking rather miserable.  
"She's just sad Donnic doesn't bend her over that big desk of hers to have his wicked way with her." Isabela commented with a leer. "You should have given him something other than Copper Marigolds if you wanted to make him hot for you. I've got some ideas if you need any?"  
"Shut up, wench!" Aveline retorted harshly. "It's got nothing to do with Guardsman Donnic. I've just had some difficulty with one of my other Guardsmen. He disappeared from his patrol on the Docks the other day. A whole shipment of goods destined for the Viscount was stolen, in broad daylight. What's the use of Kirkwall Guards if they aren't dedicated to duty! Then, today, the wife of the same Guardsman came to the Barracks, crying and ranting that he's been running around with some whore." Aveline glared at Isabela.  
"Don't look at me! I'm not dealing with any of your guards. Enforcers of the law and I don't mix." She defended.  
"Glad to hear there are some boundaries you won't cross."  
"A girl's got to have some standards!" The pirate laughed raucously, though Fenris noticed Hawke wasn't impressed and turned away to speak with Merrill.  
Fenris turned his attentions back to the door. Where was she? Not that they'd talk, or sit together, or share wine, but at least he'd be able to see her, appreciate her from afar.

After a few moments of idle chatter Varric turned to the Guard-Captain. "You wouldn't happen to have a name for this Guardsman would you? Just out of curiosity of course." He asked with a casualness that had Fenris suspicious  
"Hmm?" Aveline looked up from her mug of ale. "Oh, it's Ramond. Really big fellow, you might have seen him on patrol around here."  
The room fell silent. Everyone knew that name. Fenris knew that name, much to his chagrin.  
And at that moment, Eve walked in, everybody but Aveline turning to look at her.  
"Why do I get the feeling you've all been talking about me?" She asked with narrowed eyes, taking, as usual, the seat furthest away from Fenris, next to Isabela. He watched her but she gave no indication she knew or cared. She still made his heart stutter and set his blood aflame. Apparently they were going to pretend he hadn't heard the demon reveal her desire for him, but he was not going to forget.  
"Hey, Deadly!" Varric greeted. "Weren't you down by the Docks the other day, you know after the Fade business?"  
"Yes. Why?" She looked puzzled, reaching across Isabela to steal Hawke's drink.  
"Got in a fight didn't you?"  
"You know you need to report that kind of thing to the Guards, Eve." Aveline sighed in annoyance.  
Eve just ignored her. "Hmmm, just a little... scuffle."  
"Scuffle 'eh?" Isabela chuckled, suddenly turning to pull the collar of Eve's shirt down. "Didn't think you let people close enough to bite, sweet thing!"  
Fenris saw the deep bruised and scabbing wound on her neck, and another, less severe one peeking from the depths of her shirt. He suddenly found himself digging his nails in to his palms painfully to stop himself growling out loud. Who had done such a thing to her? If it was Ramond he was going to have his head. And if it was Ramond, why would she let him do such a thing?  
"Makers balls, Eve!" Anders gasped, "What the hell did that? A Deepstalker?!"  
Eve pulled roughly from Isabela, who laughed like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard.  
"Fuck off, Isabela." She spat at the pirate, fixing her shirt.  
"I bet I know who did that." Varric said with a shake of his head.  
"Does it matter? What I do in my private life is my business." She defended angrily.  
"Yeah, but the who you do might be Aveline's."  
"What?" Aveline said, looking confused for a moment, before it clicked. "You're the one Ramond has been running around with? Please don't tell me you two were doing... it, at the Docks? That's a public offence!" She almost shouted.  
"Running around?" Eve looked obstinate, crossing her arms and turning away from the woman's gaze. "Hardly." She didn't even deny being with him at the Docks. Fenris felt jealousy stoke his anger. So, she really had sought comfort with that man after that demon had revealed how much she still wanted him. Even more than the vision of that King.  
"Makers breathe, Eve. He's married!"  
Eve turned to look at the Guard-Captain, her face questioning. "Married?"  
"Yes. I had to deal with her at the Barracks today. Crying about how he disappears for hours on end, won't tell her where he's been, and demanding I put a stop to his adultery. He has children too! Three of them!" She sighed rubbing her brow. "Look, I can't tell you what to do here, it is your business, but..."  
"I'll end it." Eve said looking at the table. "Shit. It's just meaningless. I didn't know he was married or a father. If I did I wouldn't have agreed to anything."  
"Don't feel guilty about it." Isabela drawled. "He's obviously not getting what he wants at home. Looks to me that he's got some rather delicious skills going to waste if he's not putting himself to good use with you!"  
"Isabela!" Hawke glared at the pirate. "What is wrong with you? He's got a wife he's cheating on. It's a terrible thing to do!" Fenris agreed, not that he was sure what made a good marriage, but it certainly wasn't being a liar and an adulterer.  
"Oh buggar off, Hawke. You think I've never slept with married men and women? Please. Most of those visiting the Blooming Rose are married! Marriage is just a pointless foray that makes people feel guilty for feeling good. Eve shouldn't feel bad for her fun."  
"I'm not going to be blamed for ruining a family." Eve spoke up, her voice softer than normal. "Maker knows I've done enough of that already as a Warden." She looked at Aveline. "I'll tell him it's done with. I won't mention you, or knowing he's married with children. I'll just... end it." She got up to leave. "Shouldn't have fucking started it to begin with." Fenris heard her mumble.  
"You won't be staying for a drink?" Merrill asked.  
"No. Not in the mood. Have a good night." She left without even a backwards glance.  
"She always looks so sad when she's not looking so angry." The Dalish elf said quietly.  
"She needs to lose the guilty conscience." Isabela huffed.  
"At least she has a conscience, wench." Aveline told her. "She is doing the right thing."  
"Only if she wants to end up a prig like you, man hands.! She bit back. "I'm going to call it a night," she turned to Hawke, "unless you want to join me?" She asked, jutting her chest and hip out with a smile.  
"Not really." Hawke told her coldly, taking his ale back from where Eve had left it.  
"Fine, suit yourself! I'll find someone else to warm my bed." She glared at him before stalking off.  
"Well, isn't this a depressing night." Varric muttered.  
Fenris ignored him, muted by his anger at Ramond for treating Eve so roughly. For pursuing her despite being married and a father, things that he'd never been able to hope for, let alone have. But he was glad Eve wouldn't be seeing him anymore. He had been consumed with jealousy recently over it, anger that he had pushed her to someone else. Maybe, if he could be free of Danarius, could begin living instead of running, he would be able to offer Eve something meaningful, he could have her again. And not just for one night.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter 35

Another night in the Hanged Man, another evening pretending Fenris wasn't there in the corner scowling in to his cup. Eve grunted in annoyance. Why did he even bother coming if he was going to be so fucking antisocial. Not that she made the effort with him, but, why should she? Her desires for him were no longer a secret, there was nothing left hidden. If he felt the same he should be the one to approach her. It was obvious he had been nothing but revolted by that Fade demon parading as him. All those things Varric had said, that Fenris didn't feel good enough for her, it was all rubbish. That dwarf didn't know anything.

She looked down at her hand of cards. They were shit. She hadn't even been paying proper attention to the game, there was no way was she going to walk away with the winnings this time.  
"I'm out." She grumbled slamming her cards on to the table, throwing back the last dregs of her drink.  
"Aw, Kitten, you seem frustrated." Isabela purred from across the table.  
"I'm fine."  
"Bet you wished you hadn't told that big fella to buggar off. Looked like he was pretty adept at helping you relax."  
"I'm fine." Eve repeated with more force. She definitely was not regretting sending a letter to Ramond breaking it off. But she was frustrated. Just not in the way Isabela thought.  
"Bet he wasn't happy though." The pirate continued, pretending she was oblivious to Eve's increasing ire.  
She shrugged in response. She really didn't care. It had been almost a fortnight since she had written him, he hadn't replied, she hadn't expected him too.  
"I'm going to get another drink. Anyone want anything?" She announced.  
There was a chorus of no's. Ah, well, that certainly saved the coins.

She stood to go to the bar when the door to the Hanged Man swung forcefully on its hinges, bringing everyone's attention to the large man who stalked through.  
Eve recognised him right away and from the look on his face when his eyes fell on her, the way his scowl deepened and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, it seemed he had been looking for her.  
"Ramond." She said calmly as he stalked over.  
"I have to talk to you." He said in a low and urgent voice. "Now."  
"Guardsman!" Aveline interrupted, her tone commanding. "What is the meaning of this?"  
Ramond turned to his Captain, little respect in his eyes. "No offence, Captain." He spat angrily, Aveline's eyes widening, and then scowling in disbelief at his insolence. "But I'm not on duty. You have no jurisdiction over what I do in my free time or who I talk to." He turned back to Eve. "I just want to talk to you." He continued.  
"There's nothing to say." What in the Void was this? They'd fucked a couple of times over a month. It was hardly anything serious or meaningful. He was bloody married anyway.  
"Five minutes. That's all I'm asking." He near pleaded.  
"I don't know what you need to say, but fine." She relented, annoyed. "Outside."  
"Thank you." He breathed.  
"If she's not back in five minutes we'll be looking for her." Garrett threatened with a scowl. Maker, what did he think Ramond was going to bloody do to her!

She walked out of the Hanged Man and turned in to a small alley down the side of the building. She wasn't going to stand in front of the door to the place while Ramond said whatever he so desperately needed to say with everyone listening it like it was some kind of entertainment.  
She leaned up against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her. He better hurry up, it was cold and threatening rain. And it stank of piss.  
"So?" She said shortly as he stood in front of her in silence.  
"You sent me a letter!" He stated, angrily. "A bloody letter!"  
"It seemed the best way to end it." She told him calmly.  
"Why?"  
"Why what? End it? Does it matter." She shrugged. "It was just an arrangement, Ramond. It wasn't going to last forever."  
"The Captain told you didn't she? About that fucking wife of mine!" He snarled. "Ferelden bitch."  
"Hey!" He wasn't going to blame Aveline for this. "You're the one that's married, Ramond, and with three children!"  
"I'll leave her. Leave them." He suddenly said, eyes wide as if that was the answer. "It's just an arranged marriage anyway, I don't love her, I don't even like her! My father forced me in to it. If that's why we can't be together then I'll leave her!"  
Eve groaned out loud. "I'm sorry if you're in an unhappy marriage, but it can't be that bad if you managed to get her with child several times. I don't know what you thought we had, though you yourself were pretty clear on the no strings attached part."  
"I changed my mind." He told her, dark eyes boring in to her.  
"I didn't. Look, it's done with. Go home to your family, be happy you've got that and just get on with it." Other people got on with it, not everyone had happy marriages or got to choose their spouses.  
"No!" He snarled stepping closer to Eve. "It's over when I say it is!"  
"No. It's over because I don't want to see you anymore. It was fun, but now I'm finished with it." Shit. She could feel the rage rolling from him. Apparently she'd offended his masculinity. Moron.  
"It's that fucking Hawke isn't it? Didn't think he'd let you move in to his estate just out of kindness. What do you do? Pay him from between your legs?"  
"Fuck you, Ramond!" She spat at him. That was too far! "There's nothing between Hawke and I. Not that it matters even if there was." He was pissing her off now, really pissing her off.  
He snorted in contempt. "So it's that bloody knife ears then? I see him around you sometimes, I see him watching you. You're disgusting. Fucking a knife ears is practically like fucking an animal."  
Who was this man? Eve was struck dumb by his vitriol, having never heard such insults or curses from him. True, they rarely conversed, but she should have known if someone she slept with was so bloody racist. And when had he seen her and Fenris together? Unless he had been following her. The idea made her shudder.  
"You have no right to say such things!" She berated him angrily.  
"Yet you're not denying it!" He stepped even closer.  
"You're one to talk! Why don't you do the right thing and be a husband and father. Forget what we did."  
"I don't want to forget it. I don't want it to be over." He sounded desperate.  
"For Makers sake, Ramond! It didn't mean anything! At best it was just a diversion!" She threw at him spitefully. Maybe if he understood he'd buggar off before she knocked him on his arse.

She was about to walk away, she'd enough of his crap, but she didn't see his fist come flying at her, knocking her to the ground. Her vision bloomed white with pain. He quickly pulled her up by her hair, not giving her any time to react, shoving her roughly against the alley wall, the back of head ricocheting of the hard stone and pinned her with his large body.  
"You're just a fucking whore!" He breathed in to her face, he smelled like cheap alcohol, it made her recoil. "So I'm going to treat you like one." Fear curled in Eve's belly at his threat, she tried to struggle out of his grasp, trying to bring her hands up to punch him, but she couldn't get the angle and he ended up grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head in one large hand, her shoulders screaming in protest at the painful angle.  
He tore her shirt open in one quick tug.  
"Don't you bloody even try it." She snarled at him. "I'm going to fucking kill you."  
"How exactly?" He sneered. He looked down at her exposed chest. "I'm going to make sure that knifed eared shit won't want you. I'm going to fucking ruin you!"  
"No, you are not." Fenris's deep voice echoed around them. She had never heard a better sound in that moment, even if she hated being in the position of damsel in distress.  
"You!" Ramond spat turning his head. "Wondered if you'd turn up. You're always sniffing around this bitch."  
"Let her go." Fenris told him, his brands lighting up slightly. If Ramond didn't do what he was asked he was going to die, Eve could see that as clear as day.  
"You've spoiled my fun you little prick." The Guardsman continued, oblivious to the danger. "So now I'll make sure you don't have any yourself."  
He pulled his sword from the sheath on his hip and before Eve realised what was happening, or Fenris could stop him, he sunk the blade in to her side.  
Everything stilled. Eve looked down to see the blade buried up to the hilt inside her, but didn't quite feel it, she was too shocked at the utter ridiculousness that she'd been stabbed by such a bloody idiot. He pulled it out and let her go. She slid down the wall, landing on her backside in a puddle of water... wait, no, blood. Her blood. Shit.  
She heard Fenris yell, animalistic, a sound of pure rage, the alley lighting up in the brilliant glow of his tattoos. She had to close her eyes, only feeling a splatter of blood on her face and Ramond's terrible scream as Fenris killed him for what he'd done.

It could have been only seconds, suddenly she heard Fenris kneeling in front of her. "Eve! Open your eyes! Look at me!" He demanded.  
She did, slowly. His eyes were full of fear. Why was he so worried? It barely hurt at all.  
"I can't believe he fucking stabbed me." She said quietly. It was the only thing she could think of to say.  
"I need to get you to the healer." He told her. Healer? Oh yes, Anders, that did make sense. Why was everything feeling all strange and fuzzy like she was drunk? It was kind of nice actually, like she could just drift off to sleep and not even worry about nightmares.  
Fenris put an arm under hers and around her back. lifting her to stand.  
Blinding pain shot through her body making her scream.  
"Fuck!" One of her hands gripped on to Fenris's. There was the pain she'd been missing then. At least it woke her from her daze, clearing her head from the obvious shock she'd settled in to. Now she could feel the agony of her injury and it just flamed her anger. That bastard! She wished he was still alive so she could kill him again.  
"What are you doing here?" She asked Fenris through gritted teeth.  
"Helping you." He replied as if it were obvious.  
"No... shit!" She stumbled over a loose paving stone, Fenris never losing his grip on her, a firm hand round her. "I meant why did you follow?"  
"I waited several minutes. If I had gotten here sooner he would never have touched you at all." He said angrily.  
"Normally I'd be really pissed off to think I wasn't trusted to look after myself, but..." She looked at him, so close, if she wasn't bleeding out or in immense pain she'd quite enjoy the feel of his arms around her, his body pressed against her. "But I'm really bloody grateful."  
"You are... welcome." Eve was sure she saw him blush. "But we should hurry. You need healing, else my rescue attempt will be for nought."  
"It's not that bad." She grimaced. She was such a liar. It was definitely one of the worse sword wounds she'd ever gotten. Fenris seemed to know this too because he just shook his head in exasperation.

They both practically tumbled through the door of the Hanged Man. She heard Varric swear and suddenly she was surrounded by faces and being shoved in to a chair.  
"What in the Void happened, Deadly?" Varric asked, eyes wide with concern.  
"A parting gift." She managed to say as Anders pulled apart the remainder of her shirt to assess the damage. If she wasn't in so much pain she would have been more concerned about flashing her undergarments to the whole of the inn.  
"Stop talking!" Anders told her sternly, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I need to heal this now before you do something stupid like die!"  
"It's can't be that serious," She answered. "I'm still conscious."  
"Maker knows how! Now shut up, stay still. This may hurt at first."  
He pushed his palms against the deep, oozing, bloody wound. She couldn't help the cry that spilled from her lips, her hands grasping for something to hold on to. Somehow she found one hand squeezing the edge of the table and the other in Fenris's grasp. She looked straight in to his eyes, those lovely green, deep, soulful eyes, as pain seemed to fill every fibre of her being, before it finally started to dissipate, replaced by the warmth of Anders magic.  
Eve let out a breath she'd been holding, her grip on the table and Fenris easing, though she didn't let go of his hand. She didn't want to.  
"You're bloody lucky you know that?" Anders told her. "You were almost sliced in half!"  
"Almost doesn't count." She half smiled at him. "Thanks for the healing."  
"I couldn't heal it completely. You'll still have a scar."  
She shrugged, like that was new.  
"Ramond did this?" Garrett asked kneeling in front of her. "Why?"  
"That is something I'd like to know too." Aveline scowled, as if she couldn't believe one of her Guards could do such a thing.  
"I don't think he was planning on stabbing me." She told them, annoyed at Aveline's tone. "He was going to do... something else."  
"Oh Maker! He was going to force himself on you!" Garrett was horrified, pulling her in to a crushing hug, her hand falling from Fenris's grip.  
"Fenris disturbed him." She mumbled in to Garrett's shoulder, as she patted him awkwardly on the back. He seemed more upset than she was.  
"He didn't seem to appreciate my being there." Fenris said in a deep, quiet voice.  
"What did you do to provoke him, elf? What did you do that almost got her killed?" Anders shouted at him angrily.  
Eve pulled away from Garrett. "Stop that!" She told Anders. "It wasn't Fenris's fault! Ramond was fucking crazy! Apparently he got it in to his head he was going to leave his family for me." She shook her head. Why was she wanted by a man she had no interest in being with, but was rejected by the one she did. "I don't know about anyone else but I much prefer being stabbed than being raped, which would have happened if Fenris hadn't turned up."  
"Looks like Broody's paranoia wasn't without merit." Varric said turning to Eve. "You were barely gone a minute before Fenris followed you. Shit, Deadly, I'm glad he didn't wait any longer."  
She turned to look at Fenris. He appeared uncomfortable, glancing away from her eyes. She sighed, back to silences between them then. Though she wasn't sure why he had followed, maybe he'd realised something about Ramond she'd been too foolish to see.  
"I suppose he's dead then?" Aveline groused.  
"Yes." Fenris told her.  
"Wonderful. I better go sort it out then." She turned to Eve. "And I'd really appreciate it if you didn't go gallivanting around with any of my other Guards in future."  
"Maybe you should concentrate on ensuring you don't have any would be murdering rapist's among them, Guard Captain." Fenris bit out angrily before Eve could tell her where to go.  
Aveline huffed, turning around without another word and leaving.  
"I think she's embarrassed," Garrett explained calmly, aware of Eve's simmering anger. "That one of her Guards could do such a thing. She's spent a long time trying to filter out all the corrupt ones, train them up. She probably thinks she should have recognised Ramond for what he was."  
"Maybe I should have recognised what he was like myself." Eve sighed, still annoyed with Aveline, but Garrett's words making some sense, "I was fucking him. I should have known."  
Isabela chuckled suddenly. "Oh, Kitten, no one is thinking about what kind of person the other is, in the heat of passion! If he was leaving you bored enough to think I doubt you would have carried on with him!" She took a seat next to her, shoving a drink in her hands. "Here. It's my, well Corffs, special blend. Think you need it!"  
Eve smiled gratefully at the pirate, she made a valid point. She downed the cup of clear liquid in one go. Shit it was strong! Burned her throat and made her eyes water.  
"At least there's one good thing about this evening." Isabela smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.  
"What's that?" Eve asked raising an eyebrow.  
"Got to see that great rack of yours up close!" The pirate laughed raucously. Eve looked down to see her chest barely contained in her brassiere and quickly pulled the estranged halves of her shirt together. Buggar it! Bloody perverted pirate!  
"I should probably go back to the estate." She said, trying to pretend she hadn't seen how many eyes went to her chest the moment Isabela had mentioned her state of undress.  
She was ready to crawl in to bed if only for a couple of hours and forget how some idiot she'd managed to fell in training could stab her so thoroughly.  
"I'll walk you back." Garrett said. Eve saw a look of disappoint flash across Isabela's features at his offer.  
"You're staying here tonight with Isabela aren't you?" She wasn't going to ruin their night. She could get home on her own.  
"Yes, but... you shouldn't go home alone."  
"I don't think Ramond is in any position to attack me again." She told him. Unless anyone raised his corpse... No, she was pretty sure no one was going to bother to do that.  
"I will escort you." Fenris announced harshly. "It is not out of my way."  
"I'm pretty sure I can get to Hightown on my own." She really didn't need to be walked back and she was fully healed thanks to Anders.  
"I will escort you." He reiterated firmly.  
"Fine then." She didn't really want to tell him no, he'd saved her from Ramond, and, well, he wasn't ignoring her anymore, she didn't want to go back to the silent insolence.  
"Thank you, Anders." She turned to the mage, reaching out to squeeze his hand in gratitude.  
He squeezed back and smiled deeply. "Just stop getting in to trouble, alright? I'd rather not have to heal you at all."  
"Someone's got to keep your skill of healing battle wounds sharp."  
"Hawke does well enough with that thanks very much." He chuckled. "Whoever heard of a mage not being able to do a simple healing spell!"  
"You obviously have not been to Tevinter." Fenris said dryly.  
"I prefer to concentrate on things that might hurt all the enemies I seem to have accumulated, I'm not going to heal anyone in to submission." Garrett grumbled.  
"Speaking of submission, sweet thing..." Isabela leered, running a hand up Garrett's thigh, the man going a startling shade of red.  
"On that note, I'm off." Eve announced.  
"Don't forget to thank Fenris." Smiled the pirate. "Actions speak louder than words!"  
Eve shook her head, ignoring her innuendo laced comment. She heard Fenris curse in Tevene. Hmm, this was going to an interesting walk to Hightown.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

A continued thanks to those who take the time to read, review, follow and favourite. I have had almost three thousand hits on this story and I hope people are continuing to enjoy it.  
OoW

Chapter 36

Eve walked beside him in silence, she wouldn't even look at him. Her face set as stone.  
But he couldn't take his eyes off her, couldn't stop seeing her pinned up against that wall, shirt ripped, that animal about to force himself on her, then when he had shown up to stop him, stabbing her. Her blood had been everywhere, that bastard letting her drop to the floor to die. She had gone still, quiet, eyes closed, he had thought her dead and he had never been so afraid in his life.  
Fenris didn't remember what he'd done to Ramond, only a brief memory of hot blood up to his elbows, the cracking of bone, the Guardsman's screams cut short. Then he was kneeling before her, praying, pleading for her to be alive. She had opened her eyes and he had felt such relief he wanted to do nothing but kiss her. He hadn't of course. But he had wanted to. He still did.

"So..." she stood in front of Hawke's estate, her back pressed against the door, avoiding his eyes. "Thank you. For not letting Ramond continue with his attack." She looked up at him finally. Fenris was always struck by the utter paleness of her eyes, like white quartz when they weren't storm clouds of anger. Exquisite.  
"I think we should talk." The words left his mouth without him really thinking. He had faced her near demise today and he didn't want to waste anymore time with things as they were between them. He could no longer bear the silence, the distance, that separated him from Eve.  
"Talk?" She furrowed her brow. "About?"  
"The last few weeks. Since..." The night he'd let her leave.  
"Ah. Right." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's talk. But not here, I want to change. We can go to my room."  
He nodded in agreement, following her through the estate and up the stairs.

He had not been in her bedroom before, only seen it from her window, though he wasn't going to tell her that. He hated himself for watching her with that man. He could picture them now on the bed. He dug the talons of his gauntlets in to his palms to cool his jealousy.  
"Have a seat." She told him stepping behind her dressing screen.  
He took the armchair by the window. It did not escape his notice that on Eve's bedside table was the skyball he'd gifted her with. Did she look at it and think of him he wondered, and did she still have that scrap of black fabric from his shirt?  
"Did you have something specific to say?" She asked from behind the screen, a blood soaked shirt was thrown over the top.  
"I don't want to do this anymore," he began. He wasn't even sure what he would say. Only that he now knew what he wanted.  
"This?" She stepped from behind the screen in a knee skimming robe in deepest blue cut low on the chest. Venhadis! Was she trying to render him speechless? "'This' what exactly?" She sounded annoyed, standing on the opposite side of the room. "We don't talk, we don't do anything that we did before... How can we do less than this?"  
"I,"  
"No! Shut up!" She interrupted him angrily. "What do you want me to bloody do? Leave Kirkwall? Forget I was ever here?"  
She'd got it all wrong. "Of cou..."  
"I've never asked anything of you," she interrupted again. "I only enjoyed your company, and yes, I'm attracted to you, sorry if that repulses you so! But I'm not fucking going anywhere, so you'll just have to deal with it!"  
"Fasta vass, woman! Still your tongue!" He shouted, standing violently from his chair. The look on Eve's face could melt stone it was that intensely furious. "Just listen!"  
She narrowed her eyes at him but stayed quiet, crossing her arms under her chest, waiting for him to speak. He paced before her nervously.  
"I don't want you to leave. I don't want to pretend there is nothing between us. And I certainly am not repulsed by you." He looked up from under his fringe in to her eyes. Her face was just as hard and unreadable. He huffed out a breath. This was not going well. "I can't promise you anything. I can't give you anything. But if we were to be friends again, to enjoy each other's company in the same way as that night you came to the mansion on occasion. Then... I would not be amiss to such a thing."  
He dared a glance at her. She had uncrossed her arms, her lips pursed in thought, or possibly distaste.  
"When did I ever ask for promises?" She asked, the shadow of anger colouring her voice only slightly. "When did I ever say I wanted more than what was offered?" He looked away from her and at the floor. It was true. She had not voiced anything of the like. It was only his own mind that thought of having her as more than a warm body to share his bed. An idea of something he'd never had the opportunity of hoping for, of something he'd never had before. Something that was his. But Eve had never said aloud she felt that way. Even the demon of desire had only made him realise she continued to want him. There was no mention of emotions beyond that.  
"I suppose you never did." He replied thoughtfully. He had wished for the day he could give her those things and hope she accepted them, but he could no longer bear the thought of her being with anyone else, another Ramond who would hurt her. He couldn't make her wait till he was ready. She would move on, there would be others to offer her what she needed. But for now, he wanted to be the one she found pleasure with, no one else.  
"Is this what you want then?" She asked, taking a tentative step towards him. "We would be friends, that, what? Fucked when the mood strikes us?"  
"You have a course tongue you know that?" He smirked at her crude words.  
"But that is what you're asking?"  
"It is."  
"I... I'm not sure what to say." She confessed. "I didn't think..." She sighed. "It doesn't matter what I thought. Are you sure?"  
"Venhadis! Why must you question this so?" He blurted out angrily. Couldn't she just agree or reject him outright!  
"Because you practically kicked me out your bloody bed the first and only time we ever fucked and you've been ignoring me ever since!" She snapped.  
"You have not been the epitome of friendly yourself!"  
"Says the man that sulks in the fucking corner cursing Tevene if anyone so much as looks in your direction!"  
"You are nothing but a brewing pot of fury!"  
"Well you brood all the time!"  
"Infuriating woman!"  
"Stubborn man!"

He stood staring at her, heart racing, breath heaving. Completely and utterly aroused. This was foolish. He should never have said anything. It was obvious she was still angry at him. He should never...  
Eve practically leaped at him, her mouth slanting against his, her hands winding through his hair. So shocked at this development he could do nothing but stay momentarily still before his senses came to him. He felt the soft lips of hers against him, that fierce tongue tracing a line of fire against his bottom lip before she gently bit down, making him instantly hard. The smell of blood still lingered, but under that was her.  
He slid his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She was hard muscle and soft curves. His hands travelled to the collar of her robe, pushing the thick fabric over the slope of her shoulders.  
Eve pulled away from him, her arms dropping to her sides, only a hint of question in her eyes. Fenris looked at her, her pupils so large her eyes looked almost black. He wanted this. He really did. Even if he knew he was giving her less than she deserved. Far less than even he really wanted, but he could not give her more than what he proposed for now, not until he was truly free from Danarius. In the meantime he would not see her with another. He would not pine for her, or obsess over her, not when she offered herself so freely.

He pushed the robe from her body to pool at her feet. His mouth going dry and his heart beating loudly at the sight of her nude. Not an undergarment in sight.  
His eyes ran down her form, over her full breasts, her slim waist to the new scars on her stomach.  
"You're thinking too hard." Eve stated, his eyes snapping to hers. "You're scowling, more than usual anyhow. I can tell you're thinking too hard."  
Fenris wanted to express his fear at how she could have died earlier, how close he'd coming to losing her. He wanted to tell her not to get in such a situation again. But he couldn't say the words. Instead he voiced the concerns that had plagued him since their time before.  
"I..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm not sure how to... touch you." He stated, embarrassed.  
"You didn't seem unsure last time." She told him with a slight smile.  
No. He hadn't, but he had seen Ramond touch her intimately, seen how her body responded. Fenris wanted to do that to her and he had no idea how.  
"The only woman I can recall being with is you..." Venhadis. Why was it so hard to say how bewildering it was to contemplate touching this woman more intimately. His limited experience of such things were at the hands of his old Master, and he did not care to think of that.  
"Ah. I see." Eve replied knowingly, without embarrassment or distaste on his part, without mocking. "Well, I can certainly help you there."

She turned from him. Fenris couldn't help but watch her rounded backside as she glided to the bed. He'd watched it many times whilst covered in her form fitting trousers, he couldn't help it, but it was something else to see like this, the smooth pale skin, marred only by a long pink scar that ran from her waist over the top of her left buttocks to the top of her left thigh.  
He watched her climb upon the bed and lie propped up by the many pillows. The flames from the hearth cast a delicious glow across her pale skin, making her hair shine a vibrant red.  
Her eyes met his, heavy lidded with desire. She pushed her hair out of her face, and then ran her hand slowly down her throat, between her breasts, over her stomach, his eyes following the unhurried seductive path of her long fingers, before finally disappearing between the apex of her thighs.  
He could barely breathe through the heated lust that coursed through him as she slid her fingers between her legs, her eyes closing, head tilting back, long breathy moans slipping from between her red lips. One of her legs fell to the side so he could see how she stroked and dipped her fingers inside herself.  
Fenris felt himself grow harder as he watched Eve pleasure herself, he wanted to do to her what she did to herself but felt rooted to the spot, entranced by her.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch?" She finally said. Her voice rough with need.  
He couldn't move fast enough, pulling off his greaves to clatter to the floor beside Eve's discarded robe. He did not undress further, he needed the barrier of his clothes to stop himself from just taking her. He was adamant that he wanted to have her unravel under his touch, prove he was better than Ramond. To himself and to Eve.

He got on to the bed beside her, capturing her mouth in a long and languid kiss. He ran a hand over her body, feeling her subtle shiver as he lightly caressed her skin. She moaned throatily in to his mouth which he answered with a rumbling groan. He cupped one of her breasts, his thumb circling the hardened nipple. She arched in to his touch, her left hand running through his hair, tracing the tip of his ear with a sharp nail, making him gasp in pleasure. He didn't want to know how she knew to touch him there, how she knew how sensitive he was, but it drove him wild with pleasure when she did.  
He left her breast to feel the smooth toned muscle of her stomach, reaching the dark hair of her sex to find her hot and wet. He must have appeared tentative because she took his hand without a word, winding her fingers through his and showed him how to touch her.  
With only her moans and quickened breathing, the way her back rose from the bed when stroked at that most intriguing spot, the way she whispered his name when Fenris thrust a long digit, then another, within her tight walls, he quickly learnt how to bring her to rapturous, shuddering conclusion.

"That was..." She breathed out, a smile curving her full lips. "Just, wow."  
"Adequate then?" Fenris asked with his own smile, his pride slightly swelling along with his ravenous desire.  
"Much more than adequate." She rolled on to her side looking at him intensely. "Hmm and as much as I like your armour, you need to take it off."  
"You don't require a rest?" He hoped not anyway.  
"No. Almost insatiable Grey Warden stamina." She explained.  
He smirked at her words. "I'll remember that." He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and began to unbuckle his breastplate, spiked pauldrons and vambraces. When they had been removed, rather hurriedly, pulling off his undershirt, he felt Eve's fingers trace his lyrium brands that twisted over his shoulder and down his spine, becoming still at her cool touch.  
No one ever touched them by choice, except Danarius, but only then to cause him more pain by drawing on the power of the lyrium. Eve's touch was cool, soothing, enjoyable.  
"Do they hurt when I do this?" She asked quietly.  
"No." He could not tell her how it was in fact the opposite.  
She stayed silent, moving her fingers, her hands, to run up over his shoulders and smooth down his upper arms, bringing herself to sit beside him.  
There was a dark look of mischief in her eyes, of things she promised to do to him, promised to make him feel. Suddenly she swung herself to straddle his lap. It reminded him starkly of his first night with her.  
She was raised several inches above him in this position, her breasts brushing his shoulders, her hands stroking the nape of his neck, the damp heat of her sex penetrating through his leggings to make his breath catch.  
She licked a scorching line from his ear lobe to the tip causing him to thrust himself against her, which only spurred her on to do it again. And again. Her tongue pressing harder, followed by her lips, and when she bit down on the point of his ear he was almost undone.  
She pushed against his shoulders, forcing him to lie flat as she sat above him. His hands rested on the curve of her hips. She bent her head and kissed his lips, then, starting at the marks on his chin, licked her way down his chest, sliding from him, to end her journey at the waistband of his leggings. Her tongue had set his skin aflame. His hands had fallen from her to grip at the bed sheets, almost tearing the fabric in the mind blowing sensation of her tongue stroking his flesh, his brands, eradicating any pain he had.

He was almost in a trance like state as she removed his leggings, her hands skimming his thighs, calves, ankles. But never 'there', where he craved her touch the most. It was an exquisite torment and painful frustration at the same time.  
When an unconscious growl of dissatisfaction rose unbridled from his throat, met with her chuckle, did Eve finally give him what he wanted. She wrapped her hand around his member, instantly making him shut his eyes at the overwhelming feeling of her touching him, sliding over him, gripping him.  
Only did a small part wish that, like their first time together, she would share the pleasure of her mouth with that part of him.  
Instead after a while, when his breathing and pulse had quickened, moans spilling from his mouth, she took her hand away and crawled back over him, legs either side of his hips and finally guided him in to her tight heat.  
His hands dug in to her waist, smoothing over her hips and that lovely rounded backside as she moved above him in ways he could never have imagined. He thrust up to meet her in a combined rhythm as pleasure built a fire in his loins, a curling snake of ecstasy in the pit of his stomach that tightened and grew with each wanton cry from above him. At first he could not take his eyes off the way her full breasts bounced in the firelight, they were delectable in the way that they moved. His eyes eventually roved to watch her face, her eyes closed, chin raised, sharp cheekbones cast in shadows, flushed skin, surrounded by her thick luscious hair. She was stunning.  
Her cries grew louder, wilder, her hands clawing across his shoulders and chest, as she moved faster, closer to climax. Fenris himself was close to his breaking point, every filling thrust inside her a tight velvet caress. He was close, so close, and there was no way he would finish before she did. He moved his hand to where their bodies joined, sliding a finger to stroke at that shudder inducing nub between her legs. Her eyes snapped to his as he did this, grey eyes sparkling. The added sensation Fenris gave her had her moaning louder, her hips rolled against his faster, more urgently, violently.  
"Fenris!" She cried as she suddenly came, her walls a tight vice around him.  
He couldn't help but follow with his own climax, a blinding explosion of rapture that bent his back and curled his toes.  
"Te amo" He whispered hoarsely, his eyes watching her as she still moved above him. Words he had not meant to say and had rarely dared to even think.

Eve crawled off of him when she had recovered enough, her body finally no longer trembling above him and drawing out his own pleasure.  
She stepped off the bed to collect her robe and tidy her disheveled hair.  
He followed her lead, pulling on his clothing and buckling his armour. Unlike last time there would be no sleeping curled against each other, no unattainable memories to haunt him.  
"Would you like a drink?" Eve asked, running a brush through her hair.  
"I should return to the mansion before the rest of your house awakes." A glance out the window told him it was only a few short hours till dawn, and Hawke had asked for his help today.  
"Of course." She smiled. "So, what happens now?" Her voice was tentative, but not at all demanding.  
"Whatever you wish. My door is always open should you want to visit. I am not proposing we do this all the time," no matter how tempting such a thing would be, "but I always have wine I know you enjoy, and space for sparring if you wish?"  
"I like the sound of that." She replied with a nod.  
"I shall see you soon then." He turned to the door, fighting against the desire to kiss her goodbye, to ravish her again, to sleep with her wrapped in his arms.  
"Thank you, for this, for earlier. I'm glad we can talk again."  
"You are welcome. But, as a favour, could I ask that we do not speak of this to the others? Not that I am ashamed but..."  
"I agree. I like to keep my affairs private. They don't need to know." She acceded.  
Fenris was glad. It was bad enough before when Hawke, Varric and the abomination had walked in on them, with Varric putting ideas in his head, Hawke becoming aggressive because he thought Fenris had kicked Eve from his bed, and Anders trying to rile him up at every opportunity. He wanted to keep this arrangement private. He knew Eve would understand.  
"Goodnight then, Fenris." She bid him. He could listen to his name be spoken from that mouth forever.  
"And to you." He nodded before walking from the room and closing the door softly behind him.  
She would never know that the words that had spilled from his lips were Tevene for 'I love you'. He could no longer fight how he felt, he would just have to suffer it in silence until he could find himself worthy enough to say them in common.  
Right now he would just be glad she accepted his offer of friendship and intimate company when wanted and that he would not have to see her with anyone else. Maybe that would be enough for the both of them.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter 37

Hawke was lying in his bed, Isabela draped over him. She smelt of salt air and spiced rum. Her fingers pulled playfully at his chest hair as he slept lightly. It was already late morning and he had to go deal with that Templar, Emeric, again. No doubt blood mages would be involved at some point. Weren't they always of late?

"I should get up." Hawke spoke out loud, stretching his arms above his head.  
"Hmmm, feels to me..." Isabela ran her hand down his chest and under the sheets, "that you're already up."  
"Isabela." He chastened. "I need to get ready. I have to go to the Gallows."  
"But the Gallows are boring." She moaned. "Unless I come with you and we find a little nook together and have fun in my little nook?" She chuckled, not letting go of her grip on him, a groan creeping up his throat as she ran up and down his length slowly.  
As fun and illegal as that sounded to Hawke, and as good as her talented hand felt wrapped around him, he gave her a hard look to show he wouldn't be swayed. He'd promised his help, he didn't go back on promises.  
"Fine!" Isabela relented with a huff, getting out of bed. "I've got things to do anyway." She made a show of slinking around the room looking for her clothing that had been haphazardly thrown around the night before, then slowly redressing herself. It was very tempting to just grab her and have her again, especially if she did that thing with her tongue like she'd done the night before.  
"Are you taking Eve with you today?" She asked as she fastened her boots, purposely giving him a view of her barely covered parts. Buggar, she was trying her best to get him hot and bothered this morning.  
"No," he managed without sounding too strangled by desire. "I'm taking Anders, Varric and Aveline."  
"Ooooh, excellent! Maybe I can catch her and that lanky elf at it!" She smiled wickedly.  
"At 'it'?" What was she talking about?  
"You, know, 'it'? Mastering her taint? Exploring her Deep Roads? Floating his frigate?"  
"They're not having sex." Hawke told her seriously. Yes, since that business with Ramond trying to kill Eve they'd been getting on better, no longer pretending the other didn't exist. It made taking the both of them out on jobs a lot less tense, they were even back to sharing bottles of wine and quiet chatter. Maker knows what they talked about, weapons and the best way to kill someone in five seconds probably, but sleeping together? No way. He visited Fenris a couple of evenings a week, he was helping the elf to read and he was doing very well too, but there was no mention and certainly no sign of Eve. He didn't believe it. Isabela just thought everyone was having relations with each other.  
"Oh, they are. I can tell, I can always tell." She drawled.  
"Whatever you say, but you're wrong."  
"Okay, Hawke, you can keep believing that, but I'm going to catch them, then I'm going to ask if they'll let me join in. After watching for a while of course!" She smirked with a wink.  
Hawke shook his head, for one, Fenris and Eve were just friends now. It was obvious anything more didn't work for them. Secondly, even if Isabela was right, they wouldn't let her 'join in'. And thirdly, well, he was sick of thinking about Isabela with anyone else. She still wouldn't hear about committing to anything beyond sex with him, even threatening to put an end to what they had, so that Hawke had stopped asking her for more, had stopped trying to ask her not to see other people, had stopped thinking of ways to tell her he loved her. Besides, right now, with the state of Kirkwall, with angry Qunari, blood mages and Chantry zealots to deal with, he had enough to worry about.  
"You know it would be much easier to catch Eve and Fenris if you hadn't had her move in here. You took away my drinking partner!" Isabela was still annoyed about that. But Hawke enjoyed having Eve close by, she was like family and his mother enjoyed her company too.  
"You still see her at the Hanged Man." Hawke told the pirate, dressing himself in his light armour, breeches and knee high boots. The new armour he had was a mixture of chain and heavy red cloth, with light pauldrons and leather gauntlets. He'd made the mistake of wearing simple robes in the past which offered no protection from sharp things. He didn't want to get struck in the shoulder by a poisoned arrow again or gnawed on by a baby dragon, it was far too painful.  
"It's not the same." She sighed dramatically.  
"I might come to the Hanged Man tonight. Will you be around?" He asked grabbing his staff by the side of the bed.  
"Tonight? No, I'm... busy." She replied nonchalantly. Busy was code for being in someone else's bed.  
"Fine." Hawke said tersely. He couldn't help being jealous and angry over her continual 'busy-ness'.  
"Come on sweet thing, we talked about this. I was straight with you from the start. Its just fucking. The only one who hasn't been honest about this is you."  
"It doesn't matter, Isabela. Let's just go. I'm meeting the others soon." He started to walk off. He didn't want to get in to an argument about her activities.  
"Times like this I think you'd be better off with Merrill." She groused.  
He spun around. "What?" Merrill? Was she being serious?  
"She's sweet on you, that's obvious to everyone and she is completely adorable. She'd give you what you want."  
"And what do you think I want?" He asked scowling.  
Isabela shrugged. "I don't know, the standard rubbish isn't it? Love, marriage, little brats?"  
Hawke was struck silent. She wasn't far off, in fact she was pretty correct with her guesses. Hawke did want those things, he always had. And why not? Didn't he deserve that?  
"You're not denying it." She continued after he said nothing.  
"No," he admitted, "I'm not."  
"Merrill might be a Dalish blood mage, but she would give you that, in a heartbeat. As long as you wrestled that bloody mirror from her anyway."  
"And you won't?"  
"I've made that clear haven't I?" She snapped.  
"The problem, Isabela, is that as lovely as Merrill is, I don't want her, I want you." He took a step towards her.  
"Then you're a damn fool, Hawke!" She told him angrily, barging past him. He heard the front door slam behind her.  
Bloody pirate! What was all that about Merrill? Yes he liked the elf, she was sweet, if a little deluded about the danger of that mirror and her blood magic, but they got on, they were friends, but just friends. He loved Isabela, why couldn't she accept that? He wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't betray her, he would just love her.

Maker be damned, now he felt miserable. Go on the roof and set things on fire kind of miserable. Maybe he'd run in to some idiots that needed their undergarments set aflame.

* * *

Hawke was sweaty, bloody and tired by the time he shuffled home in the early hours of the evening.  
Shades and a deluded blood mage, a demon, more shades and a dead Templar had been the order of the day.  
Poor Emeric, the man had only been finding out what had happened to some missing women and he'd been right about a killer in Kirkwall, despite everyone's refusal to believe it, even Hawke hadn't believed it at first. Maybe if he had less people would be dead.

He was walking through the front door of the estate when he heard Gamlen arguing with Sandal. It would have been rather funny if Hawke hadn't noted the anxious tone of his uncle's voice.  
"What's wrong?" He asked walking up to the two of them.  
"There you are! Where have you been? She's missing!" Gamlen reeled off harshly.  
"What? Who's missing?"  
"Leandra! You're mother!" He said exasperated. "No one has seen her all day! She was supposed to meet me today, she visits once a week like clockwork and she didn't turn up!"  
"Maybe she is with her suitor. She received a bouquet of lilies this morning." Bodahn piped in, ushering Sandal away.  
"A suitor? Leandra has never mentioned such a thing." Gamlen sounded both shocked and disgusted, but Hawke wasn't really paying attention, Lilies? That rang a bell.  
"Wait, lilies? I know something about that..." He mused out loud before realisation hit him like ice water. "No!" Hawke exclaimed.  
"What?" Gamlen demanded.  
"There's a killer in Kirkwall, I've spent the whole day on a wild goose chase trying to find him. He gives his victims a bouquet of lilies before he takes them."  
"You think he's taken her? Oh Leandra!"  
"Wait, it could just be coincidence." Hawke tried to reason, though it sounded like a badly spun lie even to his ears.  
"We should go look for her." His uncle declared.  
"Yes, I can get Aveline to have the Guards look out for her too."  
"Good idea. I'll head back to Lowtown, maybe we missed each other while I was on my way here." Gamlen said hurrying to the door.  
"I'll go to the Barracks now then head to Lowtown." Hawke told Bodahn.  
"I shall stay here and wait for Lady Amell." The dwarf nodded. "I'm sure she's fine, Messere."  
"If Eve turns up, let her know what's happened and where I went." She'd want to know, want to help.  
"Yes, of course Messere."

Hawke rushed out the door. She had to be okay, he couldn't lose his mother, he'd lost everyone else. Surely the Maker couldn't be that cruel.

* * *

There was blood everywhere. Why in the Makers name was there blood everywhere?  
It smelt like death and decay too. Mould and mildew clinging to floor and walls. Dread built in Hawke's gut, poisoning hope for an outcome that wasn't anything less than awful. It didn't matter what Varric said, or Merrill's platitudes, he knew it was not going to be alright. Not since hearing how his mother had received lilies and especially not since hearing she'd been accosted by a bleeding man in Lowtown and they'd followed a trail of blood to the Foundry where Hawke had found the bloody remains of missing women a couple of years back. It must be that mage, Quentin, the one DuPuis had spoken about earlier.

They stood in the living quarters of the underground hideout. They had found the woman who'd been with DuPuis only earlier, Alessa, who was very much dead. Hawke had saved her from that crazy Orlesian mage only to end up dead by the real killer.  
"Maybe it's just me, Hawke, but that portrait really looks like your mother, don't you think?" Varric called his attention to a worn painting above a fire pit. He wasn't wrong, the facial features were very similar. The warm brown eyes, the rounded face, small chin and kind smile.  
"It looks like a shrine. Maybe for a wife or mother perhaps?" Anders suggested.  
"I don't know." Hawke said looking at the burning candles that glowed around the portrait. It was creepy.  
"There's a book on necromancy here." Merrill called out waving a hefty book at them.  
"He has a lot of books, lots of things about blood magic and necromancy." Anders stated looking through the bookshelves.  
"That's never a good sign." Varric grumbled.  
Hawke leafed through the book Merrill had found, reading words about preservation of bodies after death, creating creatures from parts of deceased animals. He felt like he was going to be sick. His head swam with fear.  
"We need to find her. Now!" He strangled out, throwing the book to the floor as if it would infect him with the monstrosities within.  
"Right behind you Hawke. She'll be okay." Varric patted him on the shoulder.

They turned a corner, down a flight of stairs, the place eerily quiet, the smell of rot strong enough Hawke heard Merrill gag a few times.  
He saw a man, Quentin, it had to be. The killer that had apparently abducted his mother, whispering to a figure sat as still as stone in a chair turned away from him, dressed in a yellowed and aged bridal gown. Hawke prayed it was not his mother, he prayed that she had been found far away from here, that this was all coincidence, that she was home berating how he was worrying over nothing and putting his own life in danger chasing after death obsessed lunatics.

"I wondered when you would turn up." Quentin spoke, his voice a crawling sneer. "Leandra spoke of you often. She was so sure you'd come."  
"Just tell me where my mother is and let me take her home. No one has to get hurt." Hawke tried to reason, his grip tightening on his staff, desperate just to see his mother alive and well.  
"I'm afraid it's too late for that. But you're in time to see my creation. Something I have worked so hard for. I have done what no other has ever imagined could be done! I have touched the face of the Maker and lived!" His eyes were wild.  
"What have you done?" Hawke could barely manage a whisper. Dread suffocated him, numbing him, making his heart beat ferociously.  
The madman smiled, turning back to that still figure in the chair. "I pieced her together from memory. Her pale skin, her delicate fingers and her face, her beautiful face. I have spent so long without my beloved, but now she is here, she is mine again." He bent down. "Come my dear, they want to meet you."

The person rose from the chair, limbs jolting as if controlled by something else, puppet like. Hawke could see ragged cuts crudely sewn across the shoulders, wrists, staining the pale, deadened skin and macabre bridal gown with blood.  
She, for Hawke could tell that much, stepped towards them, head down, erratic movements, before lifting the veil covering her face with trembling fingers.  
"Mother! No!" Hawke cried, almost collapsing to his knees in anguish.  
The face of his mother stared out at him, eyes clouded by death, nothing but a walking corpse. Her head on a body that clearly was not hers.  
Hawke wanted to be sick. "I will kill you for this!" He shouted with a rage he'd never felt before.  
"No! You will not separate us! She is mine!" Quentin roared, his hands casting quickly.

Corpses rose from the ground around them, shades, demons, abominations. Hawke could not recall much of the fight, wrapped in the despair and shock at what had happened to his mother.  
He barely remembered killing the mage that had done it, only registering Quentin's death as he lay in a pool of blood at his feet, before he incinerated the evil bastard till he was nothing but a scorch mark on the ground.

Hawke turned around to look for his mother, the shuffling of feet drawing his attention as she reached out for him. He caught her as she fell weakly to the floor, laying her gently in his lap. She was dying, he could see that, but he couldn't accept it.  
"Anders! Do something!" He pleaded.  
"I can't, Hawke, she has only been kept alive by blood magic. There is nothing I can do. I'm sorry." Anders replied full of regret.  
"But you're a healer!"  
"I'm sorry." Anders repeated, bowing his head.  
"No." Hawke choked out. How could nothing be done?  
"Oh Garrett." His mother spoke, her voice quiet and strained. "Do not fret darling. It is better this way."  
"There must be something. There must..." He trailed off, but deep down even Hawke knew it was useless. He had been too late. He hadn't looked out for her properly. He hadn't protected her. He had failed her.  
"Don't blame yourself." She said gently. "You saved me from him. He would have done terrible things to me. Kept me alive. Now I'm free, to be with your father again. With Bethany and Carver." A tear fell unashamedly down Hawke's face. It wasn't supposed to be this way. "But you, my dear sweet boy, you'll be left behind."  
"I'm sorry." He was sorry for so much. Sorry for not being able to protect her or his siblings.  
"You have nothing to apologise for. Just look after yourself. Be happy. I have always been so proud of you. I love you, Garrett."  
"I love you too mother." He replied hoarsely.  
Her eyes closed, her body going limp as she died in his arms.  
He had lost everyone. He had failed them all.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter 38

Eve walked through Hightown alone. It was dark and the hour late, the streets empty and uncannily quiet.  
She had spent most of the afternoon with Fenris sparring, enjoying fighting another who was incredibly skilled with a long sword. Then they'd spent most of the evening in his bed.

She was thinking of the elf as she stepped quietly through the streets despite having been in his company for many hours already. To be honest she spent far too much time thinking about him. About how he'd saved her from Ramond, even if she'd almost been sliced in two because of Ramond's jealousy on seeing Fenris.  
They had gone from cold tolerance of each other to talking like they once did before the night they'd spent together and now frequently ended up in bed, against walls, or on the floor with one another whenever they were alone. Fenris was a very competent lover, a quick learner, she wasn't wanting for anything whilst with him. Except maybe... no. Not emotions. She didn't need that. She had hoped for it, but he wasn't offering. Besides, the last time she'd accepted such a thing was with Alistair and that had gone badly. The kind of badly that continued to ache like a poorly healed wound. With Fenris it was just uncommitted fun, no feelings beyond friendship involved. It was tension relief, purely physical pleasure. Definitely. Yet that mantra sounded more and more hollow each time Eve repeated it to herself.

She stepped through the doorway of the Hawke estate, her thoughts now running to her empty stomach, practically walking head first in to Gamlen.  
Eve hadn't had much interaction with Garrett's uncle, only a fleeting introduction a few months ago. The man glared at her with red rimmed eyes before silently moving round her and leaving. He had never been particularly polite so it was hardly a surprise that he didn't say anything to her.  
She walked in to the main hall to be greeted by a cacophony of voices.  
"He shouldn't just be alone up there." Aveline said, her voice annoyed.  
"Well he was pretty clear about not seeing me!" Eve heard Isabela huff.  
"His mother just died, horribly, he's not going to be in the best mood." Anders scolded.  
"What?" Eve yelled on hearing Anders words, everyone falling to silence to stare at her. "What do you mean Leandra is dead?" Surely not, she had to have heard wrong.  
"Deadly. Shit. We've been wondering where you were." Varric spoke.  
"What's happened?" She asked searching the faces in front of her.  
"I'm sorry, Eve," Anders stepped over to her. "Leandra is dead. We've been searching most of the day for a suspected killer only for Hawke to find the real killer had abducted his mother." He pulled her in to an embrace, his words fluttering around her. How could she be dead? How could anyone want her dead? She was the nearest thing Eve had known of a real mother, and though they'd never been dress shopping or sharing secrets kind of close, and it was barely a shadow of the relationship Leandra had shared with Bethany, Eve enjoyed the woman's company.  
Maker, her eyes started to sting with tears at the thought of Leandra no longer being around. How could this have happened?  
"Where is Garrett?" She asked pulling away from Anders.  
"Upstairs in his room. He refuses to speak to anyone." Varric told her.  
"Has anyone tried?" She looked at Isabela, those two were in a relationship of sorts weren't they?  
"He chucked me out." The pirate replied. "Not that I'm any good at all that comforting nonsense. He said he wanted to be alone." She defended.  
"He always says that. He said that after his father died, but he only does it because he thinks he's going to be a burden to people." Eve shook her head.  
"Sounds to me like you ought to go see him, Deadly." Varric urged. "You knew Leandra better than us after all."  
"Yeah." She sighed. "Shit. She's really dead? I just can't believe it."  
"The guy who did it was a monster. Trying to turn her in to a copy of his dead wife using bits he'd... collected from other women over the last few years. It was horrible."  
The truth of her death made her feel sick and it must have showed because Anders grabbed her arm and led her to the nearest chair.  
"Tactful, Blondie." Varric tutted, shaking his head.  
"What? She deserves to know the truth! She wouldn't sugar coat it for anyone else." Anders replied.  
How could anyone do that to a person? Eve had seen some awful things in her life, but hearing about what had happened to Leandra, that was up there with the dwarf Laryn, the broodmother of the Dead Trenches. The memory made her skin crawl and now Garrett's mother had been subjected to something equally awful and she couldn't help how her stomach roiled and her throat burned with the need to cry.  
"The bastards dead isn't he?" She managed to speak, using anger to hide her sadness. It was easier to deal with anger than tears. "Tell me the fucking bastard is dead for what he did?"  
"By Hawke's own hand, Deadly." Varric confirmed. "Then burned the body to nothing but ash just to be sure."  
"Good." She nodded. "I should see Garrett. He shouldn't be alone right now."  
"Agreed." Aveline spoke. "Tell him we're here if he needs us, but maybe we should leave you both in peace. Let Hawke mourn without an audience."  
Eve nodded, rising from her seat to walk to Garrett's room. What in the Void was she going to say?

She approached his bedroom door. It was firmly closed. He'd retreated like this when Malcolm had died, except he'd not had his own room to lock himself in to, instead he'd gone to their place, Barlin's abandoned falling down barn. Garrett had tucked himself away in the hayloft and pulled up the access ladder. All because he didn't want to let his mother or siblings know how distraught he was at the death of his father and how afraid he'd been of having to be the 'man of the house'.

Eve knocked on the door and was greeted by silence, so she just went ahead and pushed the door open. She would have grievously harmed anyone that had done that to her if she'd asked to be left alone, but Eve mourned best in lonely silence. Garrett did not.  
"Garrett," she called out softly, his room was bathed in the flickering glow of the hearth. He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. She walked over and sat down next to him.  
"I'm so sorry." She said for lack of anything else to say.  
"I just can't believe she's gone." Garrett mumbled from between his fingers. "I don't want to believe it. But I saw her... in that place..." He choked out, his voice rough.  
"Anders told me what happened."  
"I failed her." He looked at Eve, his eyes red and swollen.  
"You did no such thing." She told him. If anything she should have been there with Garrett looking for Leandra. Instead she'd been seeking her own selfish pleasure with Fenris.  
"When my father died he made me promise I'd look after them. I couldn't even get Bethany safely out of Lothering, even after you had urged us to leave. Then I let Carver die in the Deep Roads. I had to kill him myself!" He sobbed. She didn't know, how could she have known, he'd never said he'd ended Carvers suffering himself. She couldn't even begin to comprehend such a thing, to end the life of a sibling. The two Hawke brothers were often rivals, but they were also close.  
"None of it is your fault." She tried to soothe, tentatively wrapping an arm across his shoulders.  
But he ignored her. "And now I've lost mother, to a mad blood mage who carved her up to look like his dead wife!" He breathed out shakily. "I feel so damn broken. Like the ground has been ripped from beneath my feet, cast adrift. Alone. Is this how you felt with your mother?"  
"Not exactly, no." She shifted uncomfortably. They had never really spoken about her mother though he'd pressed her to. She had merely thanked him for clearing up the abomination she'd become and for how he had fed some story to Knight-Captain Cullen about Saira living with Eve. The Knight-Captain had bought it, just. "I've never had a proper mother. Seeing Saira Tranquil, and then her turning in to that abomination, well, it hardly gave us time to bond. I know I should feel sad about what happened to her at the hands of my father. It was horrible to hear it from her mouth, that it was worse than I could have imagined, but I still feel mostly angry at her being so weak, to give in to a demon. I didn't know her enough to feel like I'd lost anything, not really. I tend not to think about it." She still had a lot of anger towards the woman that had turned to a demon, to use Eve as a pawn in a demons game. Nothing but leverage. But she also felt guilty for what she had forced her mother in to, that she would still be alive of not for Eve's misguided sense of 'saving her'. But this was not the time for admissions of guilt, Garrett had just lost his mother, her own losses were incomparable.

"I'd been angry with mother for a while." Garrett confessed. "She'd given up fathers name so she could be recognised as an Amell again. I thought she just wanted to forget about that part of her life. That she was ashamed she'd ran off and had a family with an apostate. That she was ashamed of me. She still blamed me for Bethany and Carvers deaths, she was right to, I failed them. But when she was dying she told me how proud she was of me. How could she be proud when all I seem to do is get my family killed?"  
"You did not kill them!" Eve told Garrett sharply. "How can you think that? You did nothing but your best for them. And no, it wasn't easy, you've lost them along the way, but none of that is your fault! You can't predict ogres or taint sickness or crazy killers. It's not fair, none of it. None of them should have died, but never think it was your failings that caused it."  
"It was my failing that caused you to leave Lothering though wasn't it?" Garrett shot back. "We don't talk about it, we never have, but it was my fault you left, my fault that all you had to deal with afterwards changed you."  
"We shouldn't talk about this now." Eve told him, pulling away.  
"Why not? It's as good a time as any!" He reasoned angrily.  
"You're upset. You need to rest, we don't need to drag up the past." She didn't want him to drag it up. It was stupid and useless. Why must he always feel the need to talk things through like this?  
"If I hadn't been trying to impress you with my magic then that Chantry Brother wouldn't have spotted me and ran off screaming to the Templars forcing you to stop him." He looked at her, frowning, tears brimming in his yellow eyes. "I forced you to kill him, for me. The first time you had taken a life. Then you had to leave Lothering in case they implicated me!"  
"What's the point in this?" She asked in annoyance. What he had said was true, all of it. She'd even been bitter about his foolish use of magic for a time, back when she thought Garrett could make her happy, that life could be a happy ever after. She knew better now of course.  
"The point is I'm cursed! I can't keep anyone I love safe or alive! It's my fault no matter what you tell me! All of it is my fault!" He broke down in to wracking sobs that caused Eve's chest to tighten in pain, her throat to constrict and stray tears to roll down her face. She pulled him in to an awkward hug.  
"This will hurt." She told him gently when he'd calmed a little. "This will always hurt. You will always miss your mother, just as you do all of them, especially when they are taken so cruelly and unfairly from you. I, the others, we are all here for you. You aren't alone. You must stop blaming yourself, for things that happened years ago, for what happened today. The only one to blame for Leandra is that monster, and you killed him."  
"I wish I could kill him again." Garrett seethed.  
"Me too." Eve agreed.  
"Every time I close my eyes I see her. Mutilated."  
Eve could relate, Saira still appeared in her nightmares from time to time as that disfigured monster, though she admitted it to no one.

"You should try and rest. You must be exhausted." She spoke tenderly after a while.  
"Stay, please?" He asked. Maker, he sounded so heartbroken. "I don't want to be alone right now."  
Eve nodded, climbing on to the bed next to Garrett as he lay down.  
"Thank you for coming up here." He said after a few moments.  
"I didn't think you should be alone." She told him, staring at the canopy above them. She felt Garrett turn on his side towards her.  
"She'll need a funeral..." He started to say.  
Eve turned to him. "Shush, that can wait. Don't think about it for now, just try and rest." She urged him.  
"You'll help though?"  
"Of course I will." Not that she knew the first thing about funerals. She took a hold off his hand closest to her, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles to soothe him.  
He sighed tiredly, sadly, before his breathing slowed and deepened, and Eve looked over to see that he'd fallen in to sleep, despair still marring his face.

She stared in to the darkness above her, berating people for their cruelties, cursing the unfairness of the world, silent tears creeping down her cheeks, her hand still holding Garrett's, before she too slipped in to sleep.  
Nightmares plagued her slumber, nightmares of Leandra, Saira and as usual, darkspawn.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter 39

The funeral had been awful, absolutely bloody awful.  
The Chantry had been packed with nobles who barely knew Leandra or Garrett, using it as an opportunity to hobnob with each other, to catch up on the latest gossip and arrange the marriages of their children, all of them acting as if Leandra was not on the pile of tinder wrapped in silk in the Chantry courtyard, ready to be burned when Grand Cleric Elthina gave the sign.  
Eve had never been to a funeral before. When her father had died she merely set fire to the small house she had spent twelve years in and walked away. Her father and her childhood burning to ash.

Being here, listening to the voices of the Sisters and Brothers of the Chantry sing the funeral rites, it made her wonder if those she had left behind in Fereldan had, had a funeral for her. She wondered who had bothered to attend, to say goodbye. She hadn't heard anything about it, but Wardens didn't usually have funerals anyway. They either died in battle, bodies burnt where they fell along with the darkspawn, or disappeared in to the Deep Roads when their time came, never to be seen again. That was how it was, how it had always been.

Every one of Garrett's companions was there for the funeral. Gamlen sat beside Garrett on the outer edge of the Chantry pews, the man said little, and no one approached him to give their condolences, but he seemed to prefer it that way.  
Garrett was quiet, his face solemn, though he had shed no more tears since the night of his mother's death. Eve sat next to him during the funeral, his hand grasped hers all the while, as if he would fall apart if he didn't hold on to her. She understood though, he wasn't just cremating his mother, he was cremating his whole family along with her. All the memories only Leandra and Garrett shared, of their lives as Hawke's. All the good and the bad they had lived through together, everything was going to burn with her body. So Eve didn't let go of him, she stayed with him, spoke to those that gave their shallow apologies when Garrett could not.  
Then they watched the flames consume Leandra, or whatever parts were still her, hot tendrils of flame scaling the pyre she rested on, until the whole thing was ablaze and there was nothing left to do but leave it to burn through the night till all that remained would be ashes and fragments of bone.

Only Gamlen and those closest to Garrett had been invited back to his estate afterwards. His uncle had declined, preferring to drink and spend time with whores, if Varric was to be believed. But the rest of them, those that spent their days in Garrett's company, they had come.

"I have never been to a funeral service before." Fenris approached Eve, taking the seat beside her. He passed her the bottle of wine he was holding and she couldn't help the slight smile that graced her lips at such a thing despite the sad occasion. Even when there were cups to drink from she and Fenris always shared and drank straight from the bottle.  
"No. Nor have I." She replied watching Garrett from across the room who was currently in the company of Aveline, talking quietly to each other. He didn't smile, but he looked a little less fragile.  
"Are you... what I mean to say is..." He coughed uncomfortably. Eve turned to look at him concerned. "You were close with her, Hawke's mother. I know everyone has been concerned with how Hawke has been coping since... but are you... alright?"  
"I'll be fine." She replied taking a draught of wine. "I mean, it's not right or fair what happened to her. She was a good woman, yes she had faults, but she loved her family. She even let me in to her home, back in Lothering... and again here…" Her voice cracked as she spoke and she dug her nails in to the palm of her free hand as a torrent of emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Fuck, she hadn't even felt like this when her own mother had turned in to an abomination and Eve had been forced to kill her, or rather, it. Leandra had been the only real mother figure in her life.  
She dug her nails harder in to her palm, using pain to stop her tears, but suddenly strong, long fingers threaded through hers and grasped hold of her hand. She looked down to see her fingers within Fenris's and then looked at his eyes to see him watching her.  
"You are allowed to mourn." He told her sternly, scowling at her, though his eyes were soft.  
"It's weak." She said quietly. "Tears won't bring her back, they won't stop how she suffered in death."  
"You will never be weak, not to me."  
Eve stayed silent. She didn't know what to say in reply to his heartfelt words. She hadn't expected Fenris to comfort her like this, or at all. Usually the only times their hands entwined was during sex, or when Anders had healed her stomach from Ramond's attack, and that was only because she needed something grip because it hurt so fucking much. But this, this was gentle, sweet, and she bloody liked it. Liked it far too much for such a simple touch from a man who was just a friend she fucked on occasion, who would never want anything more from her. She told herself she should let go, but she couldn't. She didn't want to.  
"I just can't." She told him honestly.  
"I understand." He nodded, but did not remove his hand from hers. "I have not seen much of you of late. I know you've been comforting Hawke, but... maybe you would like my company this evening?" He spoke quietly so no one else would hear, warm breath blowing in her ear, sending goose bumps along her skin. She felt a smile curve her mouth, but fought it. It felt good to know he wanted to spend time with her.  
"I shouldn't leave the estate, but if you return after everyone has gone, then I certainly won't turn you away."  
"Good." He dipped his head, that delightful smirk playing on his lips. "I should give my condolences to Hawke." He drew his hand away from hers and stood. "I shall see you tonight." And with that he turned and strode over to Garrett.

"You and Broody are back together then." Varric commented by her shoulder suddenly, causing Eve to jump ever so slightly.  
"We're not 'together'." She told the dwarf firmly.  
"Of course not, Deadly." He smirked. "Just fucking right?"  
"Listening to Isabela's fantasies recently?" She diverted him. The pirate was obsessed with knowing if she and Fenris were spending time together, trying to catch them in the act. Bloody woman kept trying to hide in Fenris's estate and jump out at them at the most inopportune moments, though luckily she'd only caught them sparring.  
"You know, if you were shorter you'd make a great dwarf. You're trained as a Berserker, can hold your spirits, spent more time than many of my brethren do in the Deep Roads, oh, and not to mention, you're a prolific liar."  
"I think you've been spending too much time in your stories, Varric." She had her best unreadable face firmly in place. Varric knew nothing, just like he'd known nothing about Fenris's feelings, or lack of, for her. He'd made some lucky guesses that was all and she was not going to break the agreement she had with Fenris to keep their liaisons a secret.  
"Oh, Deadly." He sighed regretfully. "If this were one of my stories you two would have got together long ago, bypassed all that shit with that Guardsman, ridden off in to the sunset to have broody babies together and lived happily ever after."  
"There aren't any 'happily ever afters'." She told him, though sometimes she wished for that not to be true. If only there was a sunset to ride off in to, a future, a happy ending. But that would not happen, not for her. Her end would be the dark loneliness of the Deep Roads half mad from the taint. She just had to learn to deal with such a prospect. It wasn't like she had years and years to put it off.  
"I dunno, Deadly, sometimes there are. Not often, but sometimes." He said sadly. Eve wished it had only been true for Leandra. "You know," he said, trying to sound more cheerful. "If this was a dwarven funeral there'd be a lot more drinking involved. I've got more of that Orzammar export if you're interested?"  
"You want me to proposition you again, Varric?" Eve smiled, remembering the last time she'd drank that stuff she'd ended up completely off her arse drunk.  
"Apart from the fact Fenris would probably go all flashy fists on me, I don't have enough of this stuff to let you get hammered!" He grinned.  
"Come on then, and do a measure for Garrett, he needs something stronger after today." She certainly could.  
"Couldn't agree with you more." Varric nodded, fishing the bottle from his duster. "I think we could all do with a dose of this."

* * *

Night had finally fallen, so cold she could see her breath in the air and quiet enough she could hear only the rustle of leaves in the icy breeze.

Eve waited for Fenris in the front porch, leaning against the slightly ajar front door. She was fiddling with that ridiculous bit of black fabric she had hidden away in the pocket of her house coat, the scrap of Fenris's shirt that had been ripped by her armour on their first night together. She didn't even know why she had it still. It was just a bit of tattered black cloth. It should mean nothing. But it didn't. It was a foolishly sentimental thing to have, to roll between her fingers, to look at when she was alone, to make her think if him. She was trying so hard, so fucking hard, not to feel anything more for the elf than he was willing to himself, but she couldn't help herself, he was in her thoughts, her blood. He was consuming her and she was powerless to resist it.

"Eve." His deep voice whispered close to her, jolting her from her thoughts. She quickly letting go of that piece of him she secretly had. "I wasn't expecting you to wait out in this cold night for me." He raised an eyebrow at his apparent surprise that she would be out here waiting for him.  
"It's not that cold." She smiled at him. She was used to Fereldan winters of icy sleet and freezing winds.  
"If you too came from Seheron you would think differently."  
"You should try walking up mountains through chest deep snow if you want to truly know what cold is." That journey up the Frostback's during the Blight had been nothing short of horrendous.  
"I think I'll decline such a test of endurance." He smirked. "Shall we go inside? Or did you wish to continue freezing out here?"  
"Let's go in. I wouldn't want those lovely ears of yours to get frostbite." She grinned at him before reaching out to run a nail over the point of one of his ears, watching how his pupils dilated and he shivered at the barest of her touches. She so enjoyed being able to do that to him.

She turned and strode in to the estate, quickly ascending the stairs and entering her room. She hasn't been with Fenris for a while and she was aching for his touch, for release under his ministrations, the sooner they were behind her closed door the better.  
She had barely gotten through the door to her room when Fenris's hand wrapped around her wrist, spinning her to come face to face with him, as he kicked the door shut with his foot.  
He was breathing heavily and she knew it had nothing to do with having to sprint after her. He was looking at her from under his long fringe, an intense gaze that had Eve instantly aroused and her heart fluttering wildly.  
She licked her lips, seeing Fenris's eyes move to watch the action. She pressed herself closer to him, tilted her head, and dragged her tongue over one of the tattoos on the side of his throat. His skin tasted of salt, the metallic tang of lyrium and that musky sweetness that was all Fenris. She felt his pulse throb and quicken under her caress.  
He groaned appreciatively, his grip on her wrist tightening ever so slightly. She traced his markings up his chin and captured his mouth. Soft, full lips that quickly responded and opened for her. Here he tasted like spiced wine.  
As they kissed, his tongue as deft as her own, she pulled her arm out of his grasp and quickly unbuckled his armour, knowing now, after their many times together and her weakness for watching him undress, where they were.  
Soon he was in just his undershirt and leggings. She tore herself away from him, saw the hungry look in his eyes, sure it mirrored her own. She pulled the tie of her house coat from its knot, letting the thick dark fabric fall from her shoulders, down her arms. She saw how Fenris's breath caught as it always did when he saw her like this, completely nude. It made her feel... beautiful she supposed, that dark look in his eyes, full of primal want. But she still felt self-conscious. Too many scars patterned her skin. Knife wounds, burns, arrow holes, not to mention those marks left from dragon teeth and claws. Her flesh was a map of battles, large and small, won and lost.  
She turned from him, walking slowly to the bed, purposefully making sure her hips swayed with allure, until she felt his hands slide around her stomach and throat, holding her against his solid chest. He had been quick to undress. Making her wonder if he'd just torn his clothes off, as she felt his smooth skin, solid muscles and hard arousal press against her. He pushed her against the wall by the bed. It was cold against her breasts and with the hot body of Fenris at her back, the combination had her sighing in pleasure.  
She felt him move her hair over her shoulder, his lips kiss the back if her neck in shuddering softness, a moan leaving her breathlessly.  
His hand travelled down her stomach to her sex, she knew he would find her more than ready for him. As he moved to tease her with his fingers, she heard Tevene words spill from him in a hoarse hot whisper against her skin.  
She grappled against the wall, the need to hold something so she didn't melt in to a puddle of pulsating pleasure at his touch, only to have his free hand close over hers, fingers winding though her own digits.

Eve couldn't help the keening noises that left her at every stroke and thrust of his talented fingers, he certainly had learned quickly how to touch her. She moved her hips in time with his fingers, rubbing against him, spurred on by how he ground himself back, his length pressed between them, sliding decadently over the curve of her backside as he moaned quietly against her between the kisses he continued to bestow upon her throat and jawline.  
Eve could feel herself reaching that wonderful precipice of delight, so ready to fall off in to that blinding, shaking, drowning feeling of climax she only found with him, when a knock at her door had her and Fenris stilling like stone.  
"Eve?" Shit, it was Garrett. She heard Fenris curse against her throat, though he didn't move away from her.  
"What is it?" She called out, her voice strained, fighting the urge to swear at him.  
"Can we talk? Just... I can't sleep." she heard him sigh.  
She wanted nothing more than to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn't, to continue her liaison with Fenris. But she couldn't, not when it was Garrett who asked for her, whose mother had been lost only a fortnight ago and burned to ash today.  
"Okay," she relented with a frustrated sigh. "I'll come to your room, I won't be long."  
"Thank you." She heard him say from beyond the door.  
"Venhadis!" Fenris cursed harshly, pulling away from her.  
"He needs me." She told him. She would not apologise though, Garrett was her friend, her mourning friend, and Fenris... Fenris was just a friend of a different kind. It was not as if they were a couple, courting or anything of the like. He did not take precedence over anyone else, except in her thoughts and desires of late.  
"Why could he not need Isabela?" He growled, pulling on his clothes angrily.  
"I don't know, Fenris!" She replied, her ire raised, as she pulled on her house coat and looked for some undergarments to wear. "It doesn't matter. He's my friend. His mother's funeral was today. If he needs me then I'm not going to tell him to buggar off just because I'm in the middle of fucking you!"  
His eyes locked on to hers, a deep scowl marring his face.  
"If you're so bloody pissed off about not getting your pleasure go to the Blooming Rose." She spat at him.  
"You would not care if I spent coin on a whore?" He growled.  
"You could pick up a woman from the Hanged Man if you wanted to! You're free to fuck who you want, it is not as if we're committed to each other, we've made no promises of loyalty!"  
"Fasta vass! You're right!" He told her angrily, turning his gaze from her and to the floor as he finished buckling on his sharp pauldrons. "Maybe I shall!"  
Eve's heart stilled, her stomach turning to ice at his words. She hadn't meant to say those things, to make him think she was fine with the idea of him with anyone else. The thought of him in another's embrace made her want to vomit. She had gotten angry at him, at how he had become annoyed that he wasn't going to get want he wanted. Now she would have accept that she wouldn't be the only one he'd be intimate with, that he wouldn't just wait for when she was available.  
"Have fun then." She managed to tell him coldly before heading for the door. "Make sure you leave quietly."  
But he said nothing and when she turned to look, her bedroom window was wide open and he'd disappeared, obviously so desperate to find a whore and have his release, that he couldn't be bothered to say goodbye.  
Fuck. Why did that want to make her cry? He had every right to. He wasn't hers, she wasn't his. But she couldn't believe how hurt she felt at the knowledge he was going to be with someone else. In fact she hadn't felt this kind if hurt for a long time, not since... Alistair.  
She stopped dead in her tracks as she stood outside Garrett's room, hand poised to open the door. Alistair. Fuck. She barely let her thoughts stray to him anymore, especially not since finding out he was getting married, the ceremony no doubt would occur in spring. But now, somehow, someway, despite promises to herself that she would never be fool enough to do such a thing again, she'd bloody fallen in love with somebody else. She had fallen in love with Fenris. Fuck. What had she done?


	40. Chapter Forty

Chapter 40

It had been a fortnight since Hawke's mother had been laid to rest. A fortnight since Fenris had been in Eve's company. A fortnight since they'd argued and a fortnight since she had told him to go visit a whore. All because of his petty jealousy that she had chosen Hawke's company over his when the mage had come knocking for her, ignorant of the fact Fenris was there.  
He had left in bitter silence and anger, slipping out the window so he wouldn't do something stupid, like tell her she was the only woman he would ever lay with, opening his heart to her like a fool, when she had no interest in knowing such things about him. Let her think he had found solace with another, let her think his heart didn't beat just for her, that she didn't pervade his thoughts.  
Fenris had thought about going to see her, sometimes scenes would play out in his mind when he was alone at the mansion. Scenes where he'd tell her how he truly felt and she would accept him. They were ludicrous hopes, and he hadn't the courage to do it anyway, or a thing in the world to offer her.  
Since then there had been no end of things to take care of in Kirkwall and keep him busy. Most notably Varric's brother Bartrand returning to Kirkwall. He finally paid the price for his treachery, both from the idol induced madness he suffered and Varric's vengeance. Then there was Hawke's obsession with helping his own kind, spurred on by the abomination and his misguided obsession with mage freedom. The man would see the whole of Thedas taken over by the Tevinters if he could.  
Finally, everything had gone to the Void just as they all predicted it would.

The Viscounts son had been killed first, by Sister Petrice, a woman who had always seemed set on seeing Hawke fall in to disrepute. Then Isabela had betrayed Hawke as soon as she had the Qunari relic, which had turned out to be the Tome of Koslun, their most sacred of texts. Foolish wench. She had known for the last three years why the Qunari had been in Kirkwall, she could have put an end to it all before blood was spilled, but she had not.  
The pirate whore had disappeared with the Tome leaving Hawke to pick up the pieces. Didn't he always?

Now they were heading for the Viscounts Keep, having run in to Knight-Commander Meredith only moments before. It had been interesting to see how she knew Hawke was a mage, but willing to overlook such a thing if he helped her against the Qunari. Hawke had agreed, as if he hadn't been the only one to try and stop the madness from happening in the first place.

All of their companions were there, save for Aveline who was doing her duty as the Guard-Captain and trying to keep the civilians caught up in this battle safe, and Eve, who Hawke had left at the estate.

They were passing in to the neighbourhood where Hawke's estate was and Fenris couldn't help the anxiety that gnawed at him that Eve could have possibly been amongst the nobles who had been taken to the Keep. But that was foolish, she would never go willingly, she would fight back and she was skilled enough to stay alive. If she could kill monsters of legend and live, Qunari were surely no problem. At least he hoped they were no problem.

They all heard a ferocious yell from the steps leading up to the Keep, right where Hawke lived.  
"It's Eve." Hawke said worriedly.  
"We should hurry." Fenris urged, racing forward, sword in his hands.

The sound of steel and shouts was deafening. He rushed around the corner.  
He saw her there, a furious snarl curling her lips, surrounded by five Qunari, looking positively diminutive compared to the horned giants around her. She was splattered with blood. He could see there were bodies scattered around, human - mages from the look of their robes - and Qunari, she'd obviously managed to cut through some of their forces.  
One of them, a Sten, brought a huge blade whistling down on her. She managed to catch the force of it against her sword, her face contorting in the effort to hold off his weapon.  
"Saarebas!" He heard Hawke cry out frantically just as the monstrosity appeared from the shadows across from him, its hands moving as it casted, its focus on Eve.  
He ran for the beast, tattoos aglow, determined to stop it before it could hurt Eve. His markings burned in agony whenever he used the power of the lyrium in his skin, but he had been trained to ignore such pain when he had to use them.  
Another Qunari began to advance on Eve from behind. Fenris was suddenly caught between killing the Saarebas or attempt to kill the Qunari soldier whose axe was hoisted ready to slice her in two. However Varric made the decision for him, a stream of bolts flying through the air taking down the Qunari that she hadn't seen.  
Fenris breathed in partial relief and ran full pelt at the Saarebas, watching the sewn lips moving silently as it pulled mana around itself, still focused entirely on Eve. Fenris threw himself at the hulking beast, engulfed in light and pain, his hand reaching through the mage's chest, enclosing over that wet, beating heart, crushing it in his fist. He felt the magic surrounding the Qunari go out like a light and wrenched his arm free, before taking off the head with his sword, just in case. One could never be too careful around mages.

He turned to see Hawke, Merrill and Anders casting furiously, while Sebastian and Varric loosed arrow after bolt against the Qunari ranks, as even more reinforcements descended the steps.  
He threw himself in to the foray, his sword just an extension of himself, meeting steel, flesh, bone. He fought silently, every so often catching a flash of crimson hair in the corner of his vision, or hearing a violent curse in Eve's dulcet tones.  
It was not an easy fight, all of them worn from travelling from the Docks and having to cut down the uprising Qunari that had stood in their path, but eventually there were no more waves of the giants attacking them.

Fenris's heart thumped violently in his chest, the thrill of fighting, of death, a torrent of euphoria flooding him, it was an intoxicating feeling.  
He looked around for Eve, spotting her on the steps to the Keep, her hair loosened from the ties she kept it in now it reached passed her shoulders, her breathing was heavy, her face a blank mask. He rushed over to her, the only thought in his mind to make certain she was unhurt.  
She did not seem to notice when he stopped in front of her. Without thinking he gently took hold of her face in his hands, startling her ever so slightly and raised her head so he could look at her properly. She had not escaped injury, one of her eyes appeared swollen shut, her face streaked with blood, her lip split, but she was as beautiful as ever, battle worn and bloody, they were her finest dressings.  
"You are alright?" He asked, smoothing his thumbs over her cheekbones.  
"I'm fine." She replied, her good eye fastened on to his.  
In that moment he felt overwhelmed by the need to confirm she was indeed fine, confirm she was truly there, with him, to crush his lips to hers, to taste her, to feel her under his fingers, his tongue, against his lips, his body, to tell her what a fool he had been, that she was everything to him.

"Andraste's arse, Eve!" Fenris heard the abomination shout, approaching them, forcing him to move his hands and back away from her. The moment lost. Fenris could have sworn he saw her sigh, her shoulders sag at the removal of his touch. "What did you do? Run head first in to one if those things?!" The healer continued.  
"Something like that." She shrugged, quickly hiding a wince, though not before Fenris or Anders had seen it.  
"Here, let me check you over."  
"It's nothing, honestly." Eve persisted. "One of them got a lucky shot in on my shoulder with a maul."  
"That doesn't explain the black eye and split lip." Anders tutted.  
"I may have head butted one of them." She said casually. Fenris couldn't help but smirk at that, only Eve would do such a thing and think it perfectly normal.  
As Anders healed what he could, the others walked over.  
"Eve," Hawke breathed out relieved. "I'm glad you're alright. What happened?"  
"I thought you could tell me." She replied, her eye no longer swollen, but still bruised and bloodshot. "I heard a lot of screaming, went to investigate and found myself in the middle of a bunch of angry Qunari. They wanted to take me to the Keep, but you can see how well that idea went for them." She tilted her head to a number of bodies by the front door of Hawke's estate.  
"The Arishok has decided to take it upon himself to 'rescue' Kirkwall from chaos, not helped by the fact a stolen artefact of the Qun they had finally found is now Maker knows where."  
"Where are Aveline and Isabela?" She asked having realised they were not with Fenris or the others.  
Hawke grimaced at the mention of the pirate's name. "Aveline is with the guards and Isabela... Isabela is with the priceless artefact. Turns out the relic she'd been hunting for since arriving in Kirkwall was the whole reason the Qunari were here and once she got her hands on it… she just buggared off."  
"What? No, she wouldn't do that, not to you!" Eve was visibly shocked.  
"Well she bloody has!" Hawke snapped angrily, completely out of character. "Sorry," he rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Look, we've got to get to the Keep. That's where the Arishok is waiting along with the Viscount and all the nobles of Kirkwall. We need to go, make sure no one else has to needlessly die today." He told them before walking off.

"I can't fucking believe Isabela would do that. Betray Garrett." Eve shook her head in disbelief.  
"Nor can I, Deadly." Varric said, hoisting Bianca over his shoulder. "But I was there, I read the note she left. Rivaini's gone."  
"What did anyone expect?" Fenris told them a little harshly. "She was a pirate. She never pretended to be the epitome of selflessness."  
"But she and Garrett..." Eve replied. "He bloody loves her!"  
"Didn't make an ounce of difference except to hurt him more." Varric stated sadly.  
"I could fucking kill her!" She seethed, turning to follow Garrett. "Stupid whore doesn't know what she's thrown away!"  
Fenris followed, silently agreeing. Hawke was a good man, a loyal man, despite being a mage. Isabela was a fool to betray him for the relic, a fool to choose material possessions over someone who would never forsake her. Fenris, if given the chance, would not falter to give up every worldly possession he had if it meant he could prove himself to Eve and have that same type of unconditional love from her.


	41. Chapter Forty-One

I'm going back to work tomorrow after ten months off on maternity leave (boo hoo!) so to cheer myself up and to apologise should I not update again for a few more days, I'm posting three chapters tonight! (At least it's 'tonight' in the UK!)  
Happy reading, and thank you to all my reviewers and readers!  
OoW

PS. I'm trying to find something suitable as a story cover. I haven't found anything yet and my creative skills don't extend to drawing (sadly!)

Chapter 41

Isabela had left, with a bloody note on a corpse. It was just so inadequate considering how Hawke felt about her. No, they hadn't been particularly close since his mother's murder, but he hadn't stopped loving her, he couldn't stop loving her just because Isabela refused to love him back.  
Maybe she was feeling hurt herself though, he had been clinging to Eve in the days after losing his mother, and perhaps he should have let Isabela comfort him. She had tried, in her own way, but he'd pushed her away, all of them away. Only Eve knew he did it because he hated to be a bother, had always needed to be the strong one, the one that couldn't break down because he was always needed.  
Eve had gone to him though, like she had when his father had died, she had comforted him, spoken words he needed to hear, given him strength to get on with things even if it all seemed so pointless and bleak. He hadn't turned to anyone else to help him cope, had ignored Isabela until earlier today when she had come to the estate asking for help with her relic, revealing it and she were the reasons the Qunari were in Kirkwall, that the streets were now red with blood because of her. He had been angry with her, disappointed. She should have revealed the truth long ago. Maybe then so many people would not be dead.  
He had told her they were going to return the Book of Koslun to the Arishok, maybe that was why she ran off with it, or she had always planned to do such a thing. The betrayal was a knife wound to his heart. He feared it would never heal.

They all made their way to the Keep, running in to Knight-Commander Meredith with her Templars and First Enchanter Orsino, both arguing over the best course of action to get in to the building. Hawke found himself in the middle as usual as the others looked on silently, happy to let him deal with it. He pleaded with the two of them to stop arguing, they could not prevail if at each other's throats.  
Orsino made the decision to have Hawke in charge, which Meredith reluctantly agreed to, and Hawke decided he and his companions would enter quietly while Orsino, Meredith and the Templars she had with her distracted the large number of Qunari currently guarding the Keep's doors. As always Hawke wanted to avoid as much death as possible, there had been too much already.  
They still met resistance though and were forced to fight their way through numerous Qunari, including one of those powerful Sten's and those bound Saarebas. Hawke hated looking at those things, wondering if the Qunari got what they wanted, would that be his fate. Chained, masked, lips sewn? He had always thought the Circle a terrible fate, but a mage under the Qun? That was far worse.

When they finally reached the Throne room, Hawke found he was too late to save the Viscount, his head came to a stop at his feet as they entered. He could barely bring himself to look at the de-crowned head, mouth gaping in death, reminding him too much of what Quentin had done to his mother.

"Shanedan, Hawke. Maraas toh ebra-shok." The Arishok rumbled, stepping heavily down the stairs. "Have you come with what I seek? Or, like everything in this vashedan City, has it been lost to chaos once more?"  
"It was found, but one of my companions betrayed me and she has left Kirkwall with it." Hawke replied trying to hide the hurt in his voice.  
"It is to be expected a bas such as those you surround yourself with would do such a thing. But for now this City needs education, enlightenment. I cannot allow this place to continue on in this chaos. Order is needed, the way of the Qun is necessary!"  
"You cannot force people in to your ways! Why can you not just leave?"  
"I came here with a given purpose, for the Book of Koslun. I cannot return without it..."  
A crash, a shout, sounded from beyond the doors, the Arishok stilled in to silence. Everyone turned their heads to see who entered, none of them, especially Hawke, could have guessed Isabela would stroll through the doors carrying the relic as if none of this was her fault. Seeing her made his heart stop, his breath catch. Was he dreaming? Had she really decided not to betray him after all?  
"Here's your bloody book." She stated, throwing it in to the Arishoks hands. "I couldn't read it anyway. It's mostly undamaged." She turned to Hawke smiling. "Missed me?"  
"What in the Void are you doing here?" He asked in shock. Anger at her previous deception clear in his voice.  
"Ugh! I couldn't do it!" She sighed dramatically. "I had a ship, a crew, albeit stolen. I was halfway to Ostwick and I had to bloody turn around." She scowled. "This is all your damn fault you know!"  
"My fault?" She was going to blame him now?  
"Yes! I did this for you, came back because of you!"  
"Not before you betrayed me!" He told her. He needed to know why she had done such a thing. Did he really mean so little to her?  
"I know... I'm sorry, but I'm here now. I should never have left. I came back for you. It's always been for you." She said quietly, hanging her head. Hawke had never seen her look as ashamed or sorrowful as she did now. He wanted to hold her, say he'd forgiven her.  
"Pashedan!" The Arishok interrupted. Hawke would have to speak to Isabela about all this later when they were not in the middle of a Qunari takeover. "You have returned what I was asked to retrieve."  
"Yes and now you can piss off back to where you came from." Isabela told him.  
"Indeed. I will return to Par Vollen." He nodded. "With the thief."  
"You're not taking her!" Hawke said, grabbing the pirate and pushing her behind him. The Arishok would have her over his cold dead corpse!  
"Then you leave me no choice, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death. The victor keeps the thief."  
"No!" Isabela exclaimed moving from Hawke's grasp. "I fight my own battles! You want to take me back, you have to fight me!"  
"You are not worthy." The Arishok told her, his lips curled in disgust. "But Hawke, I have declared him Basalit-an. There is honour in fighting him. There is none to be found with you."  
"I'll do it." Hawke told him. "I will fight you."  
"No! Hawke don't do this!" Isabela pleaded, but he ignored her. He had to do this, for her, for his friends, for Kirkwall.  
"Rivaini, you better move. I don't think this shit is going to end in any other way." Varric told her.  
"But look at the size of that thing!" Isabela tried to reason, as if Hawke didn't know the Arishok was at least three feet taller than him, three times as wide and used a not only armed with a bloody giant double edged axe, but a greatsword too.  
"Isabela! Fucking move!" Eve told her. "You got him in this mess and you're going to have to watch the bloody consequences of your selfishness." She grabbed Isabela by the arm and dragged her alongside the others to the edge of the room.

Shit. Was he really going to do this? Battle the head of the Qunari military? By himself? The Arishok descended the stairs, pulling his weapons from his back. Yep, Hawke really was this desperately stupid.

Hawke put as much space between him and the Arishok as possible and was determined to keep it so, it was the only way he was going to survive this fight.  
He opened up his link to the fade, mana flowing through him like electric in his veins, making his skin tingle. It was a powerful feeling, sparks of magic flared at his fingertips.  
The Arishok advanced on him, swinging that blasted axe in one of his giant hands. It had to be almost half as tall as Hawke himself and he was adamant he wasn't going to get cut in two by that thing.  
Hawke quickly cast spell after spell between running out of range of those damn weapons. He froze him, sent bolts of lightning through his body, and pummelled him with stone, anything to slow the beast, to damage him, to kill him. But it was not enough. The Arishok kept on coming, his axe slicing through the air, a few times coming close enough to cut the hairs from his beard and his sword nicking Hawke's skin, blood staining his robes.  
Hawke gulped down as many lyrium potions as he could and he continued to rain down as many powerful spells as he was able on the Arishok, watching as the Qunari staggered more, as blood dripped from his many wounds, his breathing laboured.  
But he still kept coming, relentless. In his haste to keep his distance, Hawke stumbled, near delirious from the lyrium he'd been downing, on to his back. He heard Isabela scream, Eve shout at him to 'get the fuck up!'. When he looked up, the Arishok loomed over him, and then brought that axe down. It slammed in to his chest. Agony filled him as it pushed the air out of him, broke several ribs, but thankfully did not slice through his chest due to his armour and a layer of chain.  
He managed to throw a rock fist at the Qunari, Maker knew how, sending him to the other side of the room, before slowly and painfully standing up, gasping for air that wouldn't fill his lungs, his vision blurring with the pain hat coursed through him. He then felt Anders healing magic wash over him, relieving the pain, allowing him to breathe and to stand straight as he readied another spell, spying the healer working silently as Isabela appeared to be raving at Anders to work faster.

Hawke knew he couldn't keep up this pace, his bones ached, his chest throbbed and his mana was getting low. He only had one lyrium potion left and one chance to kill the Arishok as the giant struggled under a pile of rubble, his grey skin coated in ice, his horns singed by fire.  
Hawke drank his last potion, drew all the mana he could from the Fade, conjuring up the most powerful spell he had, and set a Tempest against the Arishok. Lightening tore through the room, everyone cowering against the walls, shrieking in terror.  
The Arishok held both his weapons above his head, fury in his eyes. He bellowed monstrously, racing towards Hawke, and he could do nothing but watch, out of lyrium, drained of mana, the Arishok would either die now or kill him.

Time seemed to slow, the room silent save for the crack of thunder. Hawke stood fast, his staff gripped tightly, his hair standing on end from the static of the storm raged around him, when suddenly a massive bolt of lightning connected with the Arishok's axe, another with his sword, pure energy shooting through the giant, burning him inside out, his eyes glaring in to Hawke's, respect and indignation in equal measure. Then he dropped to the floor, skin smouldering, weapons melded to his hands, blood running from his mouth.  
He coughed wetly. "One day we shall... return." He croaked, before he went still. Dead.

Hawke turned around, a smile of triumph on his lips, but came face to face with an incredibly angry Isabela.  
"Awesome huh?" He asked, ignoring the exhaustion and pain he felt.  
She replied by slapping him. Hard. "You bloody fool! You almost died!" She yelled. "Never fight for me again!"  
Then she threw herself at him, soft painted lips on his mouth, hands raking through his hair, breasts pressed hard to his chest. He certainly couldn't think of any better ways to celebrate living than this.


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter 42

Eve paced outside Garrett's room nervously, wringing her hands. He'd recovered well since his fight with the Arishok, thanks to Anders healing during and after, and to Isabela's apparently impeccable bedside manner. Very vocal bedside manner at that. The pirate really needed to learn not to be so noisy in the middle of the bloody night.

He'd been declared Champion of Kirkwall, a high honour, one he had earned, and for now Kirkwall was calm, free of Qunari and Chantry zealots. No doubt it wouldn't last all that long, but calm rarely did.  
Eve on the other hand was nowhere near a serene state of mind. She was, for lack of a better word, fucked, and not in the way she liked.

She had avoided Fenris like the plague since that surprising moment of his concern on the steps of the Keep and she couldn't fight the realisation anymore, the truth. She was in love with him. In love with yet another man who couldn't or wouldn't love her back as she wanted.

She had been in a quandary of what to do. Should she carry on with Fenris, glad she at least had the affections of his body, hope it was enough? Put an end to their agreement, their friendship, to save her heart? Or just tell him how she felt and allow her heart to be broken once again?  
She didn't know what to do, but a solution had been found in the most unlikely of places, with the most unlikely of persons.

Sebastian had come to her a few days prior with a proposition. He himself was at a crossroads, unsure whether he should continue life as a Chantry Brother, take his vows, live by them as he had finally accepted he would, or take his place on the Starkhaven throne.  
He had heard that there was trouble in his homelands. Nobles still loyal to him had turned up dead along with their families with newly titled merchants given their properties in return for their loyalty to the new Prince. Sebastian was not certain of the truth, that it could possibly be a trap to get him to return and execute him, but he needed to know so he could finally make a decision for his own future and the future of Starkhaven. But whatever the truth, he had decided to return to his homelands and find out. But he needed protection and not just from well-paid mercenaries who could betray him for extra coin should they discover who he really was, Eve was well aware of such an outcome, she had been a mercenary herself and she, to her shame, had always been most faithful to the highest bidder.  
So Sebastian had come to her, asked if she would go with him, help him. He'd also offered money, though that hadn't sealed the deal, it was that fact they'd be gone for some time, enough time for her to get rid this infatuation she had over Fenris, to force herself in to falling out of love with him. Something only time and leagues apart could do.  
She and Sebastian, as well as a handful of hired mercenaries she had helped select, were to leave in two days.  
Now she just had to tell Garrett and hope he wouldn't take it too badly.

She knocked on his bedroom door tentatively. "Garrett? I need to talk to you." She called.  
"Come in! It's open!" He answered sounding cheerful, which was a good sign, she wasn't sure he'd get back to his old self quite so quickly after Leandra's death.  
She entered his room, bathed in sunlight, to see him sitting at his desk writing in his journal.  
"You're not busy are you?" She asked, hoping he was so she could get away without telling him about leaving until the last minute.  
"Not at all. Just finishing up actually." He turned around smiling, then the smile dropped as he looked at Eve. "What's wrong?" He asked.  
"Nothing." She tried to smile, but his raised eyebrows revealed how he saw through it. "Alright, okay, there's something..."  
"Damnit! It's about you and Fenris isn't it? Oh Maker, are you both eloping? That's it isn't it? I knew it wasn't just... you know... 'it'!"  
"What?" Eve spluttered. "There is no Fenris and I, and certainly no eloping!" She answered in disbelief.  
"Oh." He reddened with embarrassment at his outburst. "What is it then?"  
"I'm, that is, Sebastian has asked me to go with him to Starkhaven,"  
"You're eloping with Sebastian!" Garrett cried in horror.  
"Oh for fucks sake, Garrett! No! What is your obsession with eloping?" She asked him, now thoroughly annoyed.  
"Sorry, just jumping to the wrong conclusions, you know me!" He shrugged with a meek smile.  
"Will you let me finish without interruption now?"  
"Yes, of course."  
"Sebastian has probably told you about his need to return to Starkhaven and find the truth about the rumours of his kinsmen, right?"  
"Yes, sounds rather too much cloak and daggers for me."  
"Well, he's asked me to go with him, for extra protection, and I've agreed."  
"You're leaving Kirkwall?" He asked shocked.  
"For a time. I'll be back, just as Sebastian will."  
"But why?" His voice betrayed his sadness.  
"Why not? I'm not needed here right now. It's not a bad opportunity. I get to see a bit more of the world before I buggar off down to the Deep Roads to die..."  
"Don't talk about your death like that." Garrett chastened, scowling, "like it's a trivial thing."  
Eve sighed. "Fine. I won't. But I am leaving, for just a few months. I can keep in touch with letters. I just need to know if you're okay with this? If you're going to be alright in this house without me?" She bloody hoped so, she couldn't stay in Kirkwall right now.  
"I... I'm going to really miss you." Garrett approached her and pulled her in to a fierce hug. "You've been such a wonderful friend and support recently, I don't know what I would have done without you."  
"You would have been fine." She told him.  
"Eventually I'm sure, but still, you were here when I needed you and I'm going to miss you."  
"I'll be back." She reassured him.  
"You better be!" He pulled away, but kept his hands on her arms. "Your home will always be here if you want it to be."  
"Of course." Eve smiled at him gratefully. It was lovely of him to offer this place as a home for her, but it wasn't, nowhere was or ever had been.  
"And stay safe, no heroics."  
"What, like accepting duels to the death with Qunari?" She chuckled.  
"I really don't recommend it!" He laughed in return.  
"I'll be back and I'll try to stay out of trouble."  
"Well that isn't promising at all!"  
"I'll be fine, both Sebastian and I will be fine. Just make sure you enjoy this new status of yours and stay out of trouble yourself."  
"Staying out of trouble and avoiding violence are my new goals in life!" He laughed, then turned serious. "If you're leaving, if this has to do with Fenris, you can tell me." He told her.  
"It's not." She lied. "It's just something that I want to do. I will be sorry to miss Aveline and Donnic's wedding though." She admitted. After the shit with the Qunari and Leandra it was lovely to hear some happy news and she would have enjoyed the celebration, but it was a few weeks away and Sebastian wouldn't wait, her own need to be away from here couldn't wait.  
"We should have a leaving party!" Garrett announced.  
"No," Eve near shouted, horrified. "Just no! We won't be gone long. A few months at most I'm sure. You'll tell Aveline and Donnic sorry for me, and tell the others goodbye,"  
"I won't." Garrett interrupted, crossing his arms. "No party, fine. But you are not leaving your friends with a goodbye from me, Sebastian won't be so callous. I will arrange drinks in the Hanged Man tomorrow night with everyone and you can say goodbye properly."  
She wanted to leave quietly, without seeing Fenris until she was over him, but she saw in Garrett's eyes he would not bend on this.  
"Ugh! Fine! Have it your way!" She relented.  
"Good. Thought I might have more of an argument from you!"  
"No dancing." She told him. "And if I see even one lute player I'll be really pissed off!"  
Garrett just smiled. Eve knew she couldn't trust that bloody smile.


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter 43

"Music, alcohol and good company," Varric announced, "What more could you wish for, Deadly?"  
"No bloody music." Eve groused, shooting a dark look to one of the singers in the corner of the Hanged Man that had threatened to sing 'Ode to The Hero of Fereldan'. Over his dead body! She couldn't believe Garrett had managed to organise not just one lute player, but two! Bastard!  
"Here, have a drink, sweet thing." Isabela pushed a cup of something dark and menacing in front of her. "A few of these down your throat and you won't give a shit about the music!"  
Eve downed the liquid in one go, it was sweet and acrid. It felt like it was burning a hole through her chest. Bloody awful, but definitely strong, and strong was good, very good, especially when Fenris was sitting opposite her and scowling angrily, his large green eyes on her whenever she chanced a look in his direction. Shit. She just knew they were going to have words before the night was out. There was no chance she'd be able to avoid him before she departed for Starkhaven in the morning.  
"Be careful you don't end up with a hangover, lass, else the ride out won't be too comfortable." Sebastian advised from his seat beside her.  
"I'll be fine. Grey Warden,"  
"Stamina, yeah, we know!" Garrett finished for her with a smile. Bloody know it all drunk.  
"What is Starkhaven like?" Merrill asked Sebastian. "Is it like Kirkwall?"  
"No, it's bigger, different. It wasn't built by Tevinters. It's a lot more... refined."  
"What he means to say, Daisy, is it's pretentious and full of pompous shits." Varric said with a smile. "Present company excluded of course."  
"Thank you." Sebastian nodded with a smile of his own. "I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but aye, it is a place where people have prospered and certainly aren't wanting for the finer things in life."  
"So you better learn some manners, Eve, or at least learn not to swear so much!" Anders chuckled.  
"Think she'd be better off just staying silent!" Garrett commented.  
"That would be a waste of such lovely lips though." Isabela winked.  
"Yes, yes, thank you." Eve sighed. "But I don't think Sebastian is taking me for my lingual skills."  
"No, but I bet he'd still love to try and put that tongue to use." Isabela stated, causing Sebastian to choke on his drink and the table to erupt in to laughter, except for Fenris who looked on the verge of killing something.  
Eve clapped Sebastian on the back as he spluttered. "You have a filthy mind, Isabela." Eve told the pirate who couldn't stop smirking.  
"It's not just her mind that's filthy." Aveline announced dryly.  
"You got me there, big girl!" The pirate replied in laughter.  
"Be wary on your travels, both of you." Aveline continued seriously. "I have had a few reports of darkspawn on the roads land on my desk."  
"Then I have chosen my company well." Sebastian replied, sending a warm smile to Eve.  
Before she could respond, a familiar gauntleted hand lay tentatively on her shoulder.  
"Can we speak?" Fenris asked in a tone that offered no argument. "In private."  
"Alright." She told him. She might as well get this over with. What was he going to say anyway? Be upset? They were only friends. She knew she wasn't the only one he spent time with now, not since giving him freedom to seek out others if he wanted. He was a handsome man, he'd find no shortage of admirers. He certainly wouldn't pine for her company whilst she was gone.  
She stood and followed him as he walked up the stairs to a quiet place they could chat, ignoring Isabela's cat calls.

"You are leaving then." Fenris stated as soon as they had ascended the stairs and rounded the corner from Varric's suite.  
"Only for a while." She replied, trying to sound casual, fighting the urge to lean in and have one last, scorching kiss.  
"And you could not tell me before Hawke announced yesterday evening that we were having drinks to send you and Sebastian off on your journey?"  
"It all happened rather quickly." She reasoned pathetically.  
"I see."  
"I didn't even want drinks, but Garrett insisted."  
"So you would have left without saying a word?" His tone was angry and accusatory.  
"I... no... maybe." Why did he make her stumble over her words so? It was infuriating!  
His scowl deepened further at her admission. "Why are you leaving?"  
"Why does it matter?"  
"Are we not... friends? You think just because we had one foolish argument, that we have not seen each other for several weeks, that I would not care about your departure?" Ah. The 'F' word. Now she knew how it felt after she had used such a term on lovers in the past that wanted more than she did, as if her heart was withering within her chest.  
"Sebastian asked me. I didn't have a reason to say no." Being in love with a man that didn't love her definitely wasn't a good enough reason to stay.  
"He is a good man."  
"I suppose." She shrugged.  
"He could be a Prince if he so chose. Lands, wealth."  
"Depends on what happens in Starkhaven." She replied confused. What was he getting at?  
"Those are worthy things. Desired things."  
"Fenris, what are you talking about? I'm a hired sword, that's all."  
"For now. You could do far worse."  
"What in the Void? Are you suggesting I'm interested in Sebastian!" She exclaimed, irritation quickly ascending in to anger.  
"Aren't you? Why else would you choose to go all the way to Starkhaven with him?"  
"Oh fuck off!" She shouted at him, furious at what he was saying. "You think I'm doing this because I want to snag him as my own should he decide to take the Starkhaven throne?"  
"I doubt you'd have to try hard to 'snag' him. I'm sure he would already welcome your affections." He continued.  
"What would you know about my affections?"  
"A Hero deserves no less than a Prince." He told her simply, looking away.  
"You have no idea what a 'Hero' deserves you bloody idiot! You don't know a fucking thing!"  
She turned on her heels and stalked away from him. Was that who he thought she was? Just some stupid whore only interested in a man that could give her titles and wealth? Couldn't he see, didn't he know that she was in love with him! That titles, money, none of that had ever mattered to her! Damned bloody elf!

When she returned to the table she sat down heavily, downing whatever vile concoction had been put in front of her.  
"That was quick, Kitten. Didn't think you'd be so easily pleased!" Isabela drawled, perched on Garrett's lap.  
"No way have they done anything but talk, Rivaini." Varric told the pirate. "Hand over your coin!"  
"Not a chance! They did something!"  
"I saw them in Broody's mansion, if they'd done something we would have heard it down here!" The dwarf was adamant and his words were met with Isabela's raucous laughter.  
Eve just huffed in response. She would let them think whatever they wanted, it didn't matter. She was nothing to Fenris and space and time would prove she could feel the same about him.  
"How long will you be gone for?" Anders asked, either oblivious to her mood, or ignoring it, as Fenris returned silently to his own seat, as sullen as ever. Eve refused to meet his gaze. She couldn't meet his gaze. Maybe she could turn this anger she felt for him in this moment in to a way to fall out of love with him.  
"Only a few months at the most I imagine." Sebastian replied sipping his ale. "We shall see what my old acquaintances have to say. None of it may hold any merit."

Funny how a few months could turn in to a few years.


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

Authors note:

First, this chapter is dedicated to musicalrain who took the time to do a brilliant story cover for me, thank you so much my dear! This chapter is dedicated to you!  
Secondly, I am sorry if anyone was disappointed by the fact Eve and Fenris are still too damn stubborn and stupid to just sit down, talk and finally get together, but this is where my story has gone, the direction that they sent me in, and I cannot apologise for that. These two lovers are faulted, scarred and with a lot of emotional baggage. It wasn't that I didn't want them to be together before now, but this isn't a fluffy, jumping over rainbows, holding hands in the distance type of story (no matter if Varric would like that for them!) for the time being anyhow. Both of them have unresolved issues, which will be resolved in time, but not yet.  
Thirdly, I won't be covering Eve's time in Starkhaven in depth, though I may be tempted to do a separate story on it (even if I'm not a big Sebastian fan), but I'm dedicated to this story for now, maybe a possible prequel in the future, and have a few ideas bouncing around my head for a new story entirely!  
Finally, thank you for those that continue to read, review and enjoy this story.

OoW

* * *

Chapter 44

"Have you received any more letters?" Fenris asked Hawke as they sat together at the table in Fenris's room of the mansion. Hawke was teaching him how to write since he had conquered reading with, as the mage put it, 'great aptitude'.  
"Yes, just yesterday in fact." He replied looking up from his book.  
It had been eight months, two weeks and five days since Fenris had last seen Eve and it was torture. He had never missed anything or anyone in his life, but he missed her. She had left a gaping hole where his heart once was, an emptiness he could easily drown in. He missed her voice, her sometimes crass words, the way she smelt of flowers, the blood red of her thick hair, her soft pale skin, those grey eyes that seem to stare in to his very soul. But every time he thought of her he kept seeing her with Sebastian. A man who could offer her everything he couldn't and the pain those thoughts caused often made him wish he never had a heart to begin with.  
"Is she, are they, to return soon?" He asked, trying to hide the hope in his voice.  
"No. She said they'd be stuck there for the entire winter she expects. They've had some problems."  
"Such as?"  
"The group of mercenaries they hired found out who he was. They were going to turn him over to his cousin. Apparently there is a bounty on his head if he returns to Starkhaven. They were going to kill Eve."  
"I imagine she was not happy about that." He said dryly.  
"No. She seemed rather upset about it in her letter, having to kill them all. She blames herself as she helped choose them."  
"She couldn't have known they would do that. More fool them to think they could kill her and hand over Sebastian for coin."  
"She thinks they'll have to hire new swords for their return journey. But Sebastian is apparently unhappy with the state of Starkhaven and he's not sure whether it is the failings of his cousin, as some of the nobles would like to believe, or that it has just been a bad year for harvests and trade. She suspects the latter."  
"That is all?"  
"Pretty much." He shrugged. "I can't write back as they move around too much."  
"Nothing about the two of them..."  
"About what?" Hawke looked puzzled.  
"Nothing." Fenris looked away, back down to the paper and quill in front of him. He wished she would write to him, but why would she.  
"Wait, are you talking about Eve and Sebastian? As in together? Ugh, not you too! Isabela and Varric are betting on whether they'll come back betrothed or something." Hawke shook his head.  
Fenris had tentatively thought of that prospect, why wouldn't the Prince choose Eve as his wife. She was a hero, a beauty. She would make a wonderful wife and the two of them powerful rulers of Starkhaven.  
"It's complete nonsense though." Hawke continued.  
"Why do you say that?"  
Hawke put down his book and looked straight at him. "Makers breath, you think I'm a fool don't you? A blathering idiot maybe? Oh Hawke can defeat an Arishok but he doesn't know what's going on under his own roof!" He exclaimed in annoyance.  
"What are you trying to say, Hawke?" Fenris scowled at him.  
"I thought Isabela was talking rubbish when she told me you and Eve were together, everyone knows you and Eve... messed around the once. But after my mother died, a fortnight before the Qunari attack, you think I didn't see you on the roof of my estate that night? And don't say 'you're just friends', else I'd have known you were there."  
"I..." Fenris stuttered, shocked.  
"No denials? Good, because there's no point." He smirked. "And no, Eve didn't say anything to me. She didn't have to. In fact I may have jumped to the conclusion you and her were eloping before she left."  
Fenris answered that with a deeper scowl.  
"Obviously I was wrong, but I was the one to break the news to you about her leaving and I saw your face the night before she left, after your little talk with her. You think I don't know you're in love with her?"  
"Venhadis! You do not know what you speak of!" Fenris denied angrily, snapping the quill he was holding as his fist clenched in anger.  
"Every time I see you, you ask if she's written to me, then backtrack to pretend you're asking about Sebastian too. You get this hideously broken look on your face when I tell you she isn't returning yet. Deny it all you want, but you do love her."  
Fenris let his head fall in his hands. What was the point in lying about it when Hawke had him so figured out?  
"It is of no consequence. She is better off with someone like Sebastian. I am still not a free man. I can't give her anything she deserves."  
"It isn't about what she deserves, Fenris, it's about what makes her happy. Have you ever thought about that?" Hawke asked him. "She has lived her whole life with little more than the clothes on her back and her weapons. When I met her she had been living on the streets for several years. I still don't know how she managed to never get herself murdered or picked up by slavers, but she has always been able to protect herself, and back then she was quieter than she is now, knew how to hide. She trusted no one until she came to Lothering. When I knew her she only had what I could give her, it was barely enough, my family were not well off. But she was grateful, happy she told me."  
"She was happy with that King." Fenris told him.  
"Before he was King." Hawke corrected him. "When they were just two Wardens on the road, fighting horrors we've only had glimpses of or heard stories about. A title, wealth, power, those are not the things that make her happy. They have never been things she has aspired for. She has about as much concern over possessions as she does to whether a man was once a slave. Trust me on that."  
"I am still a slave. I am still a man without a past or even a future." Fenris told him.  
"Have you not found out whether Hadriana was being truthful? That you have a sister?" Hawke asked.  
"I am not sure if I should." Fenris still remembered how well it had gone with Eve and her mother. Maybe reconnecting to the past was not the best path.  
"You should. You could write a letter now, I can help. I bet Varric could find out if there is a Varania in Qunaris."  
"I suppose. But I still continue to be a slave on the run whilst Danarius is alive."  
"He'll come for you eventually and once he does you shall kill him. And I'll help." Hawke told him. "I don't doubt that Eve will help too."  
"If she comes back." Fenris said sullenly, though he could almost believe Hawke's heartfelt words.  
"She will, she promised. Then you can tell her how you feel."  
"Why? She doesn't feel the same way!"  
"You don't know that for sure do you?"  
"She has never said otherwise." There was that look once, when they had first been together and Fenris had not stopped her from leaving. He thought then there was a possibility she felt more than she said, but Eve had never uttered a word since to make him think otherwise, she had never done anything to make him feel otherwise.  
"Nor have you. Maybe you should ask her when she returns." Hawke told him. "It's not like you have anything to lose. You weren't even on friendly terms when she left."  
"We had argued. That night you saw me leave. I was... jealous she had spurned my company to comfort you." Fenris admitted.  
"Jealous? Why would you be jealous?" He asked in disbelief.  
"Maybe because I saw it as proof she doesn't care for me as I do her. It was stupid of me. I acted irrationally and Eve... has a temper."  
"That's putting it mildly." Hawke scoffed.  
"She thought I was annoyed because you had disturbed us before, ah, we could..." Hawke blushed at the realisation of what Fenris was trying to say. "She told me to go seek out the company of other women. She didn't seem to care if she wasn't the only one I was with. She pushed me away."  
"Did you go and find some other company?"  
"No!" Fenris near shouted. "Of course not!" The thought had repulsed him, angered him.  
"Did you tell Eve that?"  
"No. We avoided each other after that evening."  
"Perhaps she thought that's what happened when you left. Maybe she didn't mean to say those things."  
"Then why did she say them? She sounded serious enough!" He argued, confused.  
"I don't know, she's always let her mouth run off with itself when she's angry, and she's worse now she's been trained as a Berserker. Plus, well, women are just confusing in general. Most of them say things and mean another." Hawke sighed as if he knew that from experience.  
"But that makes no sense."  
"You're telling me!" He chuckled. "Anyway, like I said, what have you got to lose by telling her how you feel when she returns, you might even be surprised by her." Hawke went back to his book.

Fenris looked down at the paper in front of him. Hawke had given some sound advice, for a man that was perpetually optimistic. Maybe he would write to Varania, at the worst he would find Hadriana had been lying, but at best he might have a sister who could tell him about himself, help him remember everything he couldn't.  
Eventually Danarius would come for him, the man could not resist, especially as Fenris had stayed so long in one place. His Master would want his investment back, and Fenris, with help from Hawke, would kill him once and for all.  
Of course if Eve did return, could he really tell her how he felt? She could come back betrothed to Sebastian. If so there would be no point in saying anything. He just hoped he would see her again, soon, and, if by chance she was not with the Prince, he would find the courage to tell her how he felt, maybe he could be the one to give her whatever she wanted and needed, especially if there was truth in what Hawke had said.


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter 45

**29 Kingsway 9:34**

Dear Garrett,

I hope this letter finds you, and everyone else, well.

I have to admit that it is rather boring here. Starkhaven is shiny, wealthy and is full of power hungry pompous arses. I bloody hate it!  
There's a huge gap between the rich and poor, they like to pretend there isn't, but I wandered in to one of the poorer districts, and it was just so sad. It was like the alienage in Denerim and it made me dread to think what Starkhaven's actual alienage is like if this is how they let the poor humans live. They keep them out of the most prosperous parts of the City and anyone who dares beg on the marble paved streets chances imprisonment, or worse.  
I brought it up with Sebastian who says that the Chantry help out where they can. Going by how much marble and gold the Chantry here has on show, they could easily do more.

Sebastian spends most of his time pandering to the nobles that call themselves loyal to him, all with excuses as to why he should retake the throne, but from what I can tell, none of them are doing it for the good of their country and are full of lies, all out to ensure their own titles and wealth that are not promised by Starkhaven's new ruler.

Besides that, I can tell he's becoming disillusioned with all his acquaintances, talks of politics turn to evenings of drinking. Information gathering turn out to be meeting with men who wish to arrange a marriage for Sebastian with one of their daughters.  
Most of the time it's like being a bodyguard at a bloody Landsmeet in Fereldan, except less gets done.

And I'm sick of fish pie! I miss Orana's cooking, and you can tell her so!

I hope Kirkwall hasn't been thrown in to anarchy again, I've heard nothing to suggest it has, so enjoy not having to sort out every ridiculous problem no one can deal with themselves!

Take care, I'm sure I'll be home soon.

Your friend,

Eve.

* * *

**5 Guardian 9:35**

Garrett,

It's all gone to the Void. One of Sebastian's so called loyalists turned us over to Goran, or whoever does his dirty work. We were attacked in the middle of the night but managed to get away, though the household we were staying with were not so lucky. I'm glad there were no children there. We could hear the screams as they slaughtered everyone inside.

Sebastian got a nasty arrow wound to his arm as we made our escape, he had a small fever for a few days, but he has recovered well enough.

We've spoken about making the journey back to Kirkwall just the two of us, I think we can manage it, though it will be slow without horses, but easier to hide if we need to.

There are darkspawn on the roads, unfortunately I call to them as they do me, but they are nothing like the ones in Amaranthine. Just small numbers who have likely got lost in the Deep Roads after rock falls and wandered far away from where they rest between Blights. But there are many groups of bandits and we will need to avoid them. Not all of them are as stupid as those that were outside Lothering after Ostagar.

Sebastian has taken to praying to ensure our safety, I'm a little more practical and made him invest in some better armour as I refused to let him travel in that sparkling monstrosity he wears in Kirkwall! He tries to get me to join him in prayer, without success. He means well though.

I have had to leave this letter in the care of the Inn Keeper where we are staying, who knows who Sebastian is and has his loyalty. I hope it reaches you.

Be safe.

Eve

* * *

**19 Bloomingtide 9:35**

Garrett,

I have my doubts if my last letter reached you, or if this one will.

We've been camping in the forests recently. Sebastian has contacts he trusts that meet with him here on occasion. He wanted to find out what happened to his parents remains, to at least know if they've been laid to rest properly. Unfortunately it seems as though they've been buried in a mass grave outside of Starkhaven. He wants to find it, find them, or whatever remains, and burn them on a pyre. I cannot argue against such a wish. They were his family, and have a right to a decent send off. They were devout Andrastian's after all.

I am not sure when we'll be returning, there's always someone else we must meet or somewhere else we must travel to.

I hope you are well. I wish you were able to write so I could hear how you and everyone else is, but there is nowhere to send it.

Eve.

* * *

**12 Solace 9:35**

Journal entry

I miss him. Desperately so. In those moments just before falling asleep, when you're half in and half out of the Fade, I can feel his touch. Just a subtle thing, like the gentle caress of his fingers across the nape of my neck, or his lips brushing against mine. Sometimes I think I can hear him, a whisper of that wonderful voice, and I will open my eyes to find he isn't here.

I wish we hadn't carried on as friends who fucked. I wish I had listened to my heart from the very beginning, recognised those first sprouts of affection before they grew out of control. I wish he could have just said he loved me. I wish he hadn't let me go.

As much as I dread seeing him again, with someone else, I want to go back to Kirkwall. I don't even know what I'm doing here other than running away from feelings that have continued to follow me. I feel like I'm wasting whatever years I have left and there is so little left to waste I fear.

* * *

**7 Firstfall 9:35**

Garrett,

Hope you've enjoyed Satinalia, I'm sorry not have been able to celebrate with all of you, but I'm sure you all got suitably drunk!

Sebastian and I spent Satinalia just the two of us at a small Inn in a village outside Starkhaven. It was quiet, but nice. I never really spent much time with Sebastian in Kirkwall, he always seemed more interested in stories about Andraste's ashes or getting me to come to the Chantry, but he has quite a few tales of his own from his time before he became a Brother, and they're certainly not what I expected! You won't be getting details though as I have been sworn to secrecy. Varric will just have to continue to guess about his past!

I think he has come to a decision about what he wants to do with his life. He needs to. So far everything he's ever been is because he has never had a choice. He needs to have a future that is not dictated by other people.

I'll try and write again soon.

Take care.

Eve

* * *

**9 Guardian 9:36**

Garrett,

Do you remember celebrating our first Wintersend together?

I remember we stole one of your mothers brandy laced cakes from the larder and while you sweet talked (badly may I add!) that bar maid, I stole a cask of ale. We went up on the roof of your house and watched all the singing and dancing going on in the town. Maker, we got so bloody drunk you fell off the roof and almost broke your leg! Your mother was furious! That was the first proper Wintersend I'd ever celebrated, and definitely still my most favourite one.  
Maybe we could have a belated one when I return?

Sebastian and I are both fine, though it seems he has been a little taken in with aspects of his old life thanks to a rather charming noble Lord who he knew in his youth. I think he's becoming homesick for what he once had, especially as he's on the outside of it looking in.

I'm not sure we're still here anymore because he wants to reclaim his throne, but because he misses it and is still somewhat angry that he was sent to the Chantry in the first place and angry that his family were brutally murdered.

I hope everyone is well. Stay safe and out of trouble.

Eve

* * *

**23 Cloudreach 9:36**

Garrett,

I do not know what most of the women up here do, but apparently they do not become warriors.

I had to, well, re-educate would be the best term I suppose, four guards of a man who calls himself Sebastian's 'friend', who were unconvinced of my skills, despite Sebastian warning them they shouldn't underestimate me.

I knocked the first two out cold in the first five seconds, impaled the third to the floor with my dagger through his foot, and the fourth withdrew his argument. It was actually pretty funny, as well as pathetic. I even caught Sebastian laughing about it.

I ended up with a job offer from the man whose guards I emasculated, but I turned him down, I'm sick of this bloody place, I'll be damned if I stay here beyond helping Sebastian.

Eve

* * *

**14 Justinian 9:36**

Journal entry

I need to write this just so I can believe it, though I'm not sure I'll ever accept it.

My nightmares have gotten worse. Much worse. The darkspawn don't talk to me as such. But I can understand an odd word in my nightmares and I can hear the muted notes of a strange song hat calls to me.

I've been a Grey Warden for almost seven years, I didn't think I'd grow old, but to know that my journey towards the Calling has begun, well, I never expected it so soon. I can only hope the journey there is a long one.  
I know that my life, which has been full of violence, even before I became a Grey Warden, death has always been a possibility, I've seen enough of it to know that. But to know your death is so certain, so close, it is not the same as it sneaking up on you in the middle of a fight, to be taken from you so quickly you don't even realise you're dead. This is like a gut wound. A slow wound. A painful wound. One that you know will end in your death, each day bringing you closer to it so you can see it and feel it, but only fills you with more fear. To make you wonder what waits for you afterwards, if anything. If you've lived a decent enough life, done enough, done anything, so you have no regrets. It makes you look at your life and forces you realise all that you haven't done and it is torture.

I lay awake at night and so often wish Duncan had never conscripted me, that I'd died in the depths of Fort Drakon or dangling from the hangmans noose as I was supposed to. I wish my mother had never made a deal with a demon that brought me back from death. But it is done, I still live and the past cannot be changed.

At least now I can be glad Fenris does not love me in return. How could I be with anyone with this hanging over me, to know I would be leaving someone alone, to make them waste their time and affections on a dead woman. To make someone as miserable as I would be leaving them behind. I may be selfish about many things in my life, but not about that

* * *

**12 Solace 9:36**

Garrett,

We're coming home and should be in Kirkwall within the next six weeks.

Watch out for us.

Eve

* * *

**For information: Qunari attempted coup occurred in 9:34. The events of DA2 Act 3 start in 9:37, but I wanted mine to start a bit earlier, I just couldn't make Eve and Sebastian spend three years away!**


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

I haven't posted for a while so I am treating you to a fair few chapters today! Enjoy!  
OoW

Chapter 46

Eve and Sebastian arrived in Kirkwall several weeks after they had left the outskirts of Starkhaven.  
They had been gone for just over two years and Eve still had no idea where the time had disappeared to.  
Walking through Hightown it felt like she hadn't been away at all. It looked just the same, people complained about the same mundane things, wore the same style of clothes. It was all so normal and something about that was comforting.

She left Sebastian at the steps of the Chantry after he had thanked her for all her help. They'd grown closer during their time together and there were moments he'd hinted, that if he was to be a Prince he would not be adverse to something serious, but she didn't feel that way about him, he was a friend. Besides, she'd had enough of royalty in her life.  
That wasn't to say she hadn't been tempted to jump in to bed with him for some fun, but she hadn't. He was still sticking to his vows and she wouldn't let him break those just for her benefit.  
Instead she found what she needed from elsewhere. Not often, and mostly it had been a severe let down. All she had been able to think of was golden skin and white hair. Maker, it was pathetic that only four years ago she used to fuck men and think of dark blonde hair and honey eyes.  
Time away from Fenris had done nothing but confirm her feelings for him. Turn her desire and wanting of him in to a ravenous beast. Turn her thoughts and memories of him into an agonising ache within her heart.

She entered Hawke's estate, the thought of clean water and hot food had helped to quicken her steps through Hightown.  
"Warden Eve!" Bodahn called out surprised as she entered the hall. "By the stone! I didn't expect you back! Messere Hawke never mentioned anything!"  
"Hello Bodahn." She smiled. "He may have not got my letters."  
"Enchantment!" Sandal cried throwing his arms in the air.  
"And enchantment to you, Sandal." Eve couldn't help but chuckle at the younger dwarf. It was good to be back. "Where is Garrett? Isn't he home?"  
"I believe he was with his, Lady friend, Miss Isabela? No doubt they'll be at the Hanged Man until the early hours, but I can fetch him if you wish? He will be most pleased to see you I am sure!" Bodahn offered.  
"It's fine, I'll find them later." She replied, this meant she would be able to clean up and eat in peace. "I would be grateful if a bath could be organised for me though? And a bowl of something hot?"  
"Yes, yes! Of course! I will ask Miss Orana immediately! You go on upstairs, I'll have it all sorted for you!"  
"Thanks Bodahn."  
"My pleasure, Warden." He nodded, scurrying off.

As soon as Eve was in her room she stripped off. Maker she smelled bad. She hadn't had a proper bath for months and the last decent wash had been in a freezing cold stream two weeks ago.  
She pulled her hair out of the braid she had twisted it in to. It had grown tremendously since being away, now falling in long waves down her back past her waist, just as it had before she left Fereldan. It was good to have it long again. She had missed it, though she still toyed with the thought of cutting it, not just because it was easier to look after short, but because it was the hair of Eve Darrow, not Eve Thorne.

Orana was delighted to see her, her bath was filled with steaming fragrant water and a large bowl of thick stew and bread brought up to her in next to no time.

As soon as she was clean from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, her belly full, she made up her face, ran a brush through her hair, pulled on some leather trousers, a fitted black shirt and a light cloak, slung her sword over her back and made her way to the Hanged Man. She was filled with both excitement and trepidation about seeing everyone after so long. Especially Fenris.

She strode in to the tavern, it was bustling as always, though she couldn't see Garrett or the others. She walked up to Corff who was 'cleaning' cups with a dirty rag.  
"Corff." She greeted.  
"Well, if it isn't Serah Thorne. Long-time no see. Wasn't sure I'd lay my eyes on you again." He grinned.  
"I've just been away for a time. You know if Varric is around?"  
"Oh yeah, he's up in his suite with all the usual lot."  
"Great. Send Norah up with a round of drinks in a few would you?" She slapped a few silver on the worktop.  
"No problem." He nodded.

She ascended the stairs two at a time. She could already hear Isabela's laughter. The door was closed, so she pushed it open without knocking.  
"Is this all you lot ever do? Sit around and get pissed?" She asked loudly as all eyes fell on her in wide eyed silence.  
"Well shit, look who it is! Deadly! You're back!" Varric broke the silence first, opening the floodgates to everyone else's greetings. But her heart sunk to see Fenris missing.  
"Eve!" Garrett cried, practically flinging himself at her, hugging her till she couldn't breathe. "When did you get back? Oh, Maker, it's good to see you!" He beamed letting her go.  
"Good doesn't cover it." Anders said, pulling her in to another hug. "We were starting to wonder if you would come back at all!"  
"I had a bet you'd decide to stay in Starkhaven, Kitten, playing hide the royal sceptre with Sebastian! Guess I was wrong." Isabela grinned.  
Eve rolled her eyes. "We got back earlier today. I wanted to take advantage of some home comforts before I came and found you all." She told them.  
"Oh, Eve, I'm so glad you and Sebastian got back safely!" Merrill squealed. "I thought maybe, with the City being so big, you may have got lost or decided you liked it there more, but Varric said there was no chance of that and you would definitely be back, and he was right!"  
"Always am, Daisy!" Varric smiled. "Glad you're back, Deadly, it was starting to get quiet around here without you!"  
"I very much doubt that!" Eve chuckled.  
"You look well." Aveline spoke up, nodding her greeting with a smile. "None of us expected you to be away for so long."  
"Thanks and no, nor did I." Eve replied, "Congratulations on getting married. Sorry I couldn't be there."  
"Thank you, it was a wonderful day. And honeymoon." Aveline smiled.  
"Glad to hear it."  
"So, did you miss us?" Anders asked.  
"Maybe." She smirked at him, taking a seat.  
"Well we certainly missed you. I missed you." He told her, sitting beside her and squeezing her hand. She wondered if Justice felt the same. Doubtful. Eve noticed that Anders was looking a little ragged around the edges, tired and drawn. She hoped it wasn't the effects of living with the spirit, perhaps he was busy with his clinic. Everyone else looked the same though, Garrett especially looked happy.  
"I wrote to Garrett as much as I could, but I guess you didn't get all my letters?"  
"The last one I received was you reminiscing about Wintersend. I heard nothing after that. I was really worried for you both." Garrett said, his tone clearly upset.  
"I wrote to you after, but, well, it was hard to come by trustworthy messengers camped out in the forest." She shrugged.  
"I tried to assure him you'd be fine, but, you know Hawke." Varric shrugged.  
"You always worry too much." Eve told Garrett.  
"So I've been told, on many occasions." He replied, rolling his eyes.  
"So, where's Fenris?" She finally asked.  
"Broody? He was supposed to be here, but guess he prefers stewing in his own angst filled company of late." Varric said.  
"Bet he won't be so miserable with you back," Isabela waggled her eyebrows. "Bet you'll have him perked right up, if you know what I mean?" She laughed.  
"He'll probably turn up later." Garrett reasoned quietly. She hoped so.

Eve spent the rest of the evening catching up with her friends, but she couldn't help but watch the door waiting, hoping for Fenris to walk through, but he didn't and she couldn't help the bitter disappointment that weighed down her heart.  
She wasn't even expecting to come back and pick up where they'd left off, he'd no doubt moved on by now, which was for the best considering how little time she had before her last journey to the Deep Roads, but she wanted to try and be friends. She missed him.

After hours of drinking, talking, laughing, she, Garrett and Isabela walked back to Hightown together.  
Her two friends seemed really happy together as they leaned drunkenly on each other, giggling like children. They both looked completely in love. She was pleased for the both of them that it had all worked out. They deserved happiness, a long future together. But be damned if the sight didn't make her wish for happiness of her own. Garrett wouldn't push Isabela aside just because he was the Champion of Kirkwall, nobility, a sought after husband for the best daughters of the elite to breed future leaders of Thedas. Isabela was lucky and Eve hoped the pirate knew that.

They entered the estate, bidding each other goodnight as Eve made her way to bed.  
She stepped in to her room, closing the door behind her, before falling in to alert. The window was open. Why was her window open? She had left it closed, she was certain of it, at least she thought she was.  
"Hello?" She called out to the darkness, listening for a sound. There was nothing, so she turned to light the oil lamp by the bed. As light filled the space she saw the room was empty, the heavy curtains at the window billowing in the cool breeze.  
Eve sighed unhappily. Just for a moment, for a second, she had hoped to find Fenris here, waiting to see her. She scoffed at her foolish hopes, they had no place in her life, she should have finally realised that by now. She was just a Grey Warden waiting for death, what happiness could there be for her?


	47. Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter 47

Fenris felt like he was drowning in despair. That his days of hoping, praying for Eve to return would never end.  
He loved her, he wanted to tell her, yet she was out of reach. He should have never have let her leave as he had, without knowing how he truly felt.

He picked up the bottle of wine in front of him, downing the last of its contents before hurling it at the wall.  
"No wonder this place looks such a state if you do that." Aveline spoke as she entered. He merely grunted in response. He didn't care.  
"What did you come here for?" He asked gruffly when she continued to stand there in silence.  
"As sociable as ever I see." She crossed her arms across her chest looking unimpressed by his tone. "I came here with the news you wanted, but if you're going to be like this..."  
"My sister?"  
"Yes, the ship you told me she arrived on? I can find nothing to suggest it is anything other than what she has told you. A woman matching her description was on there and alone." She held out the copy of the passenger list so he could see for himself.  
"But what if it is not so?" He scowled at her, then at the paper.  
"Then do not go, or at least don't go alone." She sighed in frustration.  
"But I have to know, I need to know if it is indeed her or a trap!"  
"I can tell you only what I have found out, what has been written there, Fenris. I have done all I can." She turned to the doorway, Fenris following her line of sight, to see Hawke walk in. "Oh good. You talk to him, Hawke, I've had quite enough of his cheerful disposition." She said sarcastically.  
"Thank you, Aveline." Fenris finally relented, as she had said, she could not know who this woman claiming to be Varania really was.  
She nodded curtly and left.  
"What's going on?" Hawke asked concerned.  
"It is about my sister. I took your advice. Varric found out where she lived for me and I wrote to her. It turns out she was working as a tailor in Minrathous, not Qanaris as she once was. It took many letters but I convinced her I was telling the truth. I sent her coin for the voyage and now she's finally here, staying at the Hanged Man."  
"That's great, isn't it?"  
"I can't be certain it's her, I can't go and see her alone, if it's a trap..." He trailed off.  
"You're worried Danarius has sent a bunch of slavers for you after all this time?" Hawke asked in disbelief.  
"Venhadis! Don't you understand! He will never give up!" Fenris raved. He felt like the chains of slavery were heavy around his wrists again, that he was suffocating under the threat of his master, the possibility he hadn't run far enough, that he was not strong or skilled enough to evade capture. "Come with me, Hawke, please. I need someone who can fight at my back just in case!"  
"Calm down. I understand. I'll come with you, of course I will."  
"Thank you." He breathed in relief.  
"Eve too."  
"Eve?" He looked up sharply at the mention of her name.  
"Yes, Eve." Hawke gave him a knowing smile. "She returned yesterday. If you had turned up to the Hanged Man you would have seen her. She asked for you."  
"She did?" He asked in disbelief.  
Hawke nodded. "You should go see her, tell her how,"  
"You have not said anything to her have you?" He interrupted, still unsure how he could tell a woman like her someone like him loved her.  
"No!" His friend sounded offended. "That's for you to do, as long as you still feel the same, it has been a long time."  
"Obviously I feel the same." Fenris scowled at Hawke. His feelings were not fleeting like the seasons. "But I need to deal with my sister first."  
"Right, and there is no doubt Eve will want to be there, she cares for you. You remember how she fought with you when Hadriana tried to capture you?" Fenris nodded. Of course he remembered, he could not forget that. "Well she won't let you face Danarius without her."  
"Fine. Ask her for me. But I must go there within the week, that is the length of her stay." He was too afraid to see Eve yet, alone, he didn't know what to say to her, how to reveal his feelings.  
"We'll go tomorrow. First thing."  
"Thank you, Hawke." He nodded.  
"Oh, and Fenris? She's not with Sebastian." His friend mentioned with a smirk before leaving.  
Fenris felt his heart miss a beat at that news, relief washing over him. A fear he had kept over the years finally proved to be false.  
And maybe he was worrying over nothing in regards to his sister too. Maybe this would give him the answers he needed, allow him to feel more like the man he was before Danarius, that he could, be for Eve.

* * *

Fenris was waiting outside Hawke'a estate, nervous, anxious, hopeful. His sister was within reach, a link to his erased past. Did he have a name that was his, before Danarius had bestowed him with the only one he knew? Other family members? Ones who too were free like Varania?

In the midst of his thoughts, Hawke exited his estate, followed closely by Eve. Seeing her after so long, struck him dumb, especially when she smiled at him.  
She looked the same as before she left, but also different. Two years travelling out in the elements had darkened her skin a little, making her grey eyes even more striking and her hair had grown in to thick shining waves that fell over her shoulders to her waist. She was breathtakingly beautiful.  
"Hello, Fenris." Eve greeted softly. "It's been awhile." She stood just out of reach of him.  
"It has." He managed to say. Venhadis! Why could he say no more?  
"Garrett told me about your sister." Eve told him after staring at him for a few silent moments. "I want to help, like you did with my mother. I owe you."  
"You owe me nothing." Fenris told her gently. "But thank you." He looked away from her intense gaze, fought the urge to live out every heated dream that had plagued him during her absence.  
"We can meet Isabela and Varric at the Hanged Man." Hawke spoke. "Not that I think we will need them, but,"  
"It is always best to be prepared." Fenris finished for him as he walked on. He couldn't look at Eve anymore; he couldn't afford to be distracted by her. This was more important than his years of longing and unrequited love right now. He needed to be focused.

They walked in to the Hanged Man together. The Inn was empty this early in the day and Fenris quickly spotted Isabela leaning casually by the bar and Varric at the corner table where they usually all sat when not in his suite. There was only one other person there, a small elven woman, hair a bright red, green eyes like his. She saw him and stood.  
"It really is you." She said, her voice quiet.  
"Varania?" He asked, a memory returning to him slowly. "I remember you, we used to play in our masters courtyard while mother worked..." The image of him chasing a little elven girl, a younger copy of the woman who stood in front of him now, running through the dust, while a woman he couldn't see, but knew was his mother, hummed a sweet tune and Varania called out for him. "You called me,"  
"Leto." She said, refusing to meet his gaze. "That is your name."  
His name, he finally had a name that wasn't forced on him. He looked at his sister; she appeared worried, anxious, wringing her thin hands.  
"What's wrong?"  
"It's a trap!" Hawke interrupted, drawing his attention to the stairs, a familiar figure walking down those stairs, dread filling his veins.  
"Ah, my little Fenris, as predictable as always." Danarius spoke in that sinister, egocentric voice Fenris knew so well.  
The years had not changed him, he looked as deep lined and cruel faced as he always had, draped in the rich heavy fabrics and golden embellishments that showed those of the Imperium how high his standing was within the Senate.  
Fenris turned to his sister, almost shaking in fury that his own blood would deceive him so. "Why would you do this? Why would you lead him here?" He snarled at her.  
"I'm sorry, Leto, but I had no choice." She told him, cringing at his tone.  
"Now, now, my pet, your sister did what any good citizen of the Imperium would." Danarius spoke to him as if he were nothing but a disobedient dog.  
"I never wanted these markings, Danarius, but I will not let you kill me to take them back!" Fenris spat at his master, feeling nothing but hatred for this twisted man that stood before him, remembering all his cruelties, his humiliation, his suffering at the hands of this monster.  
"Oh, my little Fenris. How little you know." He tutted. "You have been so changed by freedom. You were not always like this; you enjoyed your place with me. I remember that quite fondly."  
"Don't throw your life away, Leto, come back with us." His sister urged.  
Fenris turned to Varania. "Do not speak to me, bitch!"  
"Come, my pet, she speaks wisely. You can either come back to me willingly or I can force you, but you will come back to me. You belong to me." Danarius sneered.  
"Fenris does not belong to anyone!" Hawke spoke out, voice angry.  
"Oh, and what do we have here? The Champion of Kirkwall I see?" He laughed mockingly. "And is that a note of jealousy I detect? Well, the lad is rather skilled isn't it?"  
"Shut your filthy mouth, Danarius!" Fenris roared, his tattoos lighting up in fury. He didn't want anyone to know of the depravities he had been forced in to as a slave, he had overcome them, but it did not mean he was not ashamed of them.  
His master sighed like he was merely dealing with an impudent child. "The word is Master, and you will relearn that soon enough."

Danarius sent out a mind blast powerful enough to have Fenris and the others sliding across the room as he ran behind his slavers and wrapped himself in a protective shield. Fenris snarled at him, it would not protect him for long.

There were only a dozen slavers, nothing difficult to deal with. He cleaved the head from one that approached him and the rest fell in quick succession by the hands of his friends in a torrent of blood and screams.

Fenris saw the shield around Danarius disperse, he had a new trick for that bastard, but before he could reach him, he disappeared from sight and up from the floor rose a small army of corpses. Demons too roared free of the fires within the hearths around the room and shades sprang from the shadowed corners.  
But still Fenris fought on, as did the others, through bone and flame and otherworldly flesh. A scratch, a burn, a bite, nothing distracted him from killing the beasts around him. They would not keep him from killing his true target.

When most of the creatures had been returned to the Void he searched for Danarius, who was throwing every offensive spell he could towards Hawke.  
Fenris ran full pelt at the magister, drawing on the skill Eve had taught him and he'd been waiting so long to use. He sent a smite out to Danarius, pouring every bit of hate, fury, pain and misery he had felt at his masters hands. The force of it made Danarius collapse to the floor gasping for breath. Fenris could see the fear in his eyes as he stalked over, grabbing him by the neck to lift him dangling off the floor. Powerless, pathetic old man. He was nothing when his magic was torn from him. This is what he'd feared for years? This is what he'd killed for, debased himself for, what he'd suffered for?  
"I have no Master!" Fenris seethed at him, brands lighting bright. "I am no slave!" He crushed Danarius's throat, ripping out his windpipe, rupturing his jugular, so the man couldn't even scream in pain, but Fenris saw the agony of his impending death it in that bastards cruel face as he struggled, grasping at his ruin of a neck, before finally succumbing to death.  
It was over.

Fenris turned to his sister who cowered in the corner, eyes wide in terror.  
"Was it worth it?" He growled at her. "To sell out your own brother?"  
"I'm sorry Leto." Varania whimpered as he came to stand over her.  
"Do not call me that! It is not my name!" Leto, whoever he was, had died long ago. Fenris was the only name he knew, the only man he could be. A killer. An ex-slave. A lyrium marked elf.  
"I'm sorry, I had no choice! He said if I helped to find you, to bring you back he would make me his apprentice, that I would be a magister!"  
"You betrayed me for power? To be like them?" He shouted at her in disbelief. She had never mentioned she was a mage. How could this be, his own flesh and blood tainted by magic?  
"You have no idea what it has been like since mother died, what I have had to suffer just to survive!"  
"I will kill you!" The anger at her roared through his veins, it would be so easy to sink his hand through her chest, and then she would know true suffering! She was just another power hungry mage!  
"Please, no, stop him!" She cried, her eyes looking over his shoulder. Fenris saw them all there, watching.  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" He seethed at her.  
"Broody, trust me, killing her won't help. I should know. Killing Bartrand didn't make me feel better." Varric told him.  
"You're better than this." Hawke said. "She's your sister."  
Fenris couldn't help but look to Eve, who remained silent; her face impassive, though there was anger in her eyes that matched his own.  
He turned back to Varania. "Venhadis! Go! Before I change my mind!" He told her finally, before she scuttled quickly from him.  
"You said you didn't want your markings, that they were forced on you." Varania spoke from the doorway. "But you did. You competed for them, fought and killed for them. Then with the boon you gave mother and I freedom."  
"Why are you telling me this?" He didn't want to hear those words, to know that all the years he blamed Danarius and mages for the curse of his brands that it had been his choice, his decision, it was as if the few things he knew of himself were being ripped away from him.  
"I see you now and I know you got the better end of the deal. Freedom was no blessing." She turned and left.

"Are you alright?" Hawke asked cautiously.  
"I thought finding out about my past, finding my sister, that it would give me a sense of belonging. But I was wrong. Magic has spoiled that too." He replied, under all the anger, the betrayal, nothing but emptiness. "I am alone."  
"You aren't." Eve spoke up. Fenris was unable to avoid her gaze. "You have friends."  
Fenris sighed. If he had friends why did he still feel so lost? "Let's go, I cannot stand to be here any longer." He walked out, not caring if they followed him or not.

He had reached the mansion when he realised he had been followed, but not by Hawke or Varric or Isabela, but by Eve.  
"Have you not been witness to enough of my suffering?" He snapped at her as they stood outside his doorway. He couldn't help it, he was in turmoil over everything he thought had been true in his life turning out to be lies, at the betrayal of his so called sister, and now with Eve here having been witness to the shame of it all.  
"I wanted to make sure you were alright." She told him, not backing down from his furious glare.  
"I'm fine. Now you can go."  
"Don't be so fucking stubborn!" She scolded him.  
He turned and walked in to the building. "What do you want to hear? That I cannot believe that I chose this, these markings? That I feel the taint of magic etched in to my skin as well as my soul? That despite Danarius dead I feel as lost as ever?" He threw down his sword in frustration. "I am free, finally, after years of being hunted, of running, yet it doesn't feel that way."  
"You have always been free." She told him, standing on the outer edges of the hall. "You didn't need to kill him to prove that. All his death was, was your vengeance, to ensure you would no longer be hunted. But you have been free ever since you escaped from him. And your markings, they are your selfless sacrifice to free your family from slavery. That your sister did not even have the mind to understand or be grateful for that sacrifice makes her a bloody fool. That she would turn in her own flesh and blood for her own gain... Well she is weak and pathetic for it, and you are better off without her."  
"You would have had me kill her wouldn't you?" He asked taken aback at the passion of her words.  
"I would have let you make that decision yourself. It was yours alone to make." She sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "I'll leave you in peace now; you're obviously not up for company. But don't think you're alone, you're not, you have friends, people who care for you."  
"Wait!" He called out as she turned around to leave. "Why did you not come to see me?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"Hawke said you returned two days ago, but I have not seen you."  
"I wasn't sure if you would want to see me. If you were busy." She defended, though the words sounded like a weak excuse even to him.  
"You have been gone for over two years, I would never be too occupied to see you had you come here. I didn't even know you were back."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Did you know I have spent longer missing you than I have knowing you?" He asked.  
"I didn't mean to be gone for so long. I didn't think you would miss me."  
"How could you think I wouldn't?" Did that mean she hadn't missed him?  
"We didn't part on good terms." He remembered that last conversation well, to his shame. "You accused me of being a noble hunter in fact. That I would sell myself out to the highest bidder, like a whore." Her words were laced with anger that she spat like daggers. He could tell it still caused her as much pain as it did him to think on the last words they'd  
"I didn't mean for you to think that. I only believed that if Sebastian chose to take his throne that he could offer you what you deserve. He could make you happy." He still did, though Hawke had helped him see perhaps he was wrong, and now he knew such things had not come to pass.  
"And how would you know what would make me happy? Have you ever asked?"  
"No." He hung his head.  
"Maybe you should have done." She muttered sadly.  
"I need to... tell you..." He sighed heavily and began pacing back and forth in front of her, uncomfortable and anxious. "You told me that night I left your company, before the Qunari attack, that I should seek out... other women..."  
"It is not my business what you do. Or who." She crossed her arms.  
"But I didn't. I couldn't." The thought of being with someone else was repugnant.  
"Why?" Eve breathed the question.  
"I have only ever wanted you." He stepped towards her so they were a breath apart, but he did not move to touch her. "It has been torture without you here for the past few years. I was unsure if you would return."  
"I always said I would come back." He felt nervous so close to her after all this time.  
"I made a promise to myself that if you did return, if you were not with Sebastian,"  
Eve interrupted him with a huff. "Sebastian? Why did you believe such a thing?"  
"Because he is a better man than I." He told her.  
"Only in your eyes." She replied shaking her head at him.  
He looked at her properly. Did that mean she had always seen him differently than he had seen himself? "You are a Hero. A brave, ferocious warrior. You are loyal, kind, beautiful. I do not know what turn of events forced you here, all I know is that my life has never been better with you in it and never has it been more empty without you." He reached out a hand, cupping the scarred side of her face. "I know I never said anything before you left, but it was only because I didn't feel worth your affections, that I shouldn't have more or want more, because I had nothing to give you."  
"What?" She gasped.  
"I have cared for you deeply, ever since our first night together, I pushed you away then because... because I had memories return to me in my dreams. I remembered things, from my life before, but as soon as I awoke they were lost to me. It made me realise I was nothing, not compared to you, to who you could have. I pushed you away. But after Ramond I couldn't bear the thought of you with anyone else, especially someone who could hurt and nearly kill you like he did. I thought if we were sharing a bed I couldn't become jealous of anyone else, that at least I could have you that way. But being with you it just made my feelings stronger. Then you left and I missed you. I wanted you, I needed you. I told myself I wouldn't waste another day letting you believe I felt otherwise if you returned." He took a deep breath. "I... I love you."

Eve stood there just staring at him, silent. Fenris could see how her hands had fisted, shaking in... anger? Upset?  
"You fool." She finally said, no louder than a whisper. "You bloody fool. You made me believe, made me think..." She shook her head. "So much time wasted."  
"What are you saying?" He scowled at her words.  
"How could you think you were not good enough? How could you not tell me how you felt before I left?" Her voice was harsh, shaking in fury. Fenris could see the glitter of tears in her eyes. "Damn you!" She shouted at him. "This will end in nothing but heartache for you!"  
"How can you say that? You don't know!" Wouldn't she even try and give them a chance?  
"Yes I do." She stepped away from him, wiping her eyes. "I have to leave."  
Fenris moved to her, grabbing her arm. "No! Fasta vass! You cannot just leave! Tell me what you mean! Why do you believe this will end so badly?"  
"The Calling, the fucking Calling! It's started!" She ripped her arm from his grip. "There is nought for us, no happy ending, nothing but misery for both of us. The only future is my death alone in the fucking darkness!"  
"How long?" He managed to ask on a ragged whisper.  
"A year. Maybe less. Maybe more. I don't know, but it's certainly not long enough to have a future together."  
"No." He staggered, the reality of her words were crushing his soul, his heart. This couldn't be, not now, not so soon. Not after all this time of waiting.  
"I'm sorry." She whispered, tears and black kohl streaking her face. "I can't do this. We can't be together. Not now. I can't let you waste anymore of your time on me. I have to go."  
Before Fenris could tell her not to, she had fled.

He cried out at the emptiness around him. A wordless, furious, deafening roar until his lungs felt like they would burst and his throat was raw.  
First he had lost any chance he had of a family, to connect to his past, and now he had lost Eve.


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter 48

It was going to be a good day; Hawke could feel it in his bones. Eve and Sebastian were back from Starkhaven safely, he was in love with a gorgeous woman who loved him in return, Fenris was no longer being pursued by that demented magister, and so far the worst thing that had happened in Kirkwall was Knight-Commander Meredith and Orsino arguing on the steps of the Keep.

"Good morning Messere Hawke!" Bodahn called cheerfully as Hawke descended the stairs.  
"There's some letters just arrived for you, I do believe one looked quite important, wax seal and everything."  
"Oh, alright. Thank you Bodahn." Hawke replied. Hmm, well, letters didn't mean bad news.

He picked up the one on top of the pile that Bodahn had pointed out. Official indeed, though he didn't recognise the crest as a Kirkwall one.  
He tore it open and read.  
"Shit!" Hawke exclaimed, staring at the letter in his hand. "In fact not just shit. Fuck!" He winced at his own language, but it was not uncalled for. This was definitely the time for cursing. Maker, what was he going to do? He needed advice, maybe Varric?

* * *

"You have got to be shitting me?" Varric looked up from the letter Hawke had handed him. "This is real?"  
"Most definitely." Hawke replied sat at Varric's table.  
"Well shit, you really couldn't make this stuff up." The dwarf shook his head.  
"I can't just ignore it, he wants to meet me!"  
"No, you can't ignore it, but you need to tell Eve."  
"What do you think she's going to do?"  
"Probably nothing. Or buggar off to the Wounded Coast for a few days. But she needs to know, to try and keep a low profile at least."  
"Yeah." He sighed. "Damnit, how am I supposed to tell her the King of Fereldan is in Kirkwall?"  
Varric shrugged. "Perhaps behind a locked door once you've hidden all the sharp objects."  
"Good advice."  
"Or... you could just tell her now." Varric said warily, staring past him.  
"What?" Hawke asked confused, before turning around to see Eve in Varric's doorway as white as a sheet.  
"Oh, Eve! Hello!" Hawke put on his most charming smile. "So, ah, funny story..."  
"I know." She said dryly, walking in to the room and sitting down.  
"You heard?"  
"Yes, but that's not how I know."  
"Oh Maker! He saw you?"  
"No, but his advisor, Teagan Guerrin, he saw me. Recognised my bloody hair. I knew I should have cut it off." She let her head fall in to her hands. "You know how fucking awkward it is to explain how you're not dead to someone who attended your funeral and thinks they're hallucinating in the middle of Hightown?"  
"Um, very awkward?" Hawke replied cautiously.  
"That doesn't even begin to cover it." She groaned.  
"So what're you gonna do, Deadly?" Varric asked, he was looking far too amused.  
"Right now, have a drink, or five. But you," She turned to Hawke, "you are going to meet with him as requested and not breathe a word about me."  
"Okay. That works."  
"I promised I'd meet Teagan here in a couple of hours. He wants to talk, I can give him that."  
"You know this Teagan fellow well then, Deadly?" Varric queried with a smirk.  
"Not in the way you're thinking!" Eve scowled at him.  
"I better go meet the King then." Hawke announced. "You in Varric?"  
"As if I'd miss the chance to meet the man who was fool enough to choose a throne over Deadly." He replied. "And live!"  
"Good luck with Teagan." Hawke told Eve as they left.  
"Not a word, remember!" She shouted at them.  
"On my honour." Hawke told her. Guess he wouldn't be taking Isabela then, he knew she'd end up saying something incriminating.

He decided he'd meet Aveline at the Keep and bring her along. She'd have some interest meeting the King of Fereldan surely. However, he had not expected to bump in to the most miserable and morose looking Fenris he'd ever seen walking through Hightown.  
"Broody!" Varric shouted as he spotted the elf first. "Guess where we're headed?"  
Hawke groaned inwardly, Fenris still hadn't apparently told Eve how he felt. He didn't know why, he was sure Eve felt the same. But apparently the elf preferred to spend his days pining for her than being with her and was never in anything but a terrible mood of late.  
"Should I care?" Fenris asked bitterly.  
"Not really, no." Hawke said, trying to get Varric to move away and not say anything. The last thing he needed to deal with right now was Fenris learning that Eve's last love was in Kirkwall.  
"We're going to meet the King of Fereldan!" Varric announced. "You know, Eve's old flame? The one who broke her heart?" Hawke cursed under his breath as he saw Fenris go in to anger mode. "You want to come along?"  
What in the Void was Varric doing? Trying to make Fenris go on some killing rampage in the middle of Hightown?  
"Yes." The elf finally replied, though snarl was probably a more apt description.  
"Great! Come on men, times a wasting and Kings don't like waiting, from my experience anyway!" Varric began to walk off as if he were completely oblivious to what he'd just done.  
"Don't kill him." Hawke quickly turned to Fenris. "Don't hurt him, or maim him, or do anything!" He urged.  
"Why would I?" Fenris asked derisively.  
"Because you look angry." Hawke told him. "Oh, and your heart ripping fist is glowing."  
"Venhadis." He muttered, the light of his tattoos fading. "Fine, I will not do a thing."  
"Thank you." Hawke breathed in relief.  
"But I am still joining you." Fenris walked off after Varric.  
Hawke groaned. There went his good day.


	49. Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter 49

Eve was on her eighth drink of... something, she wasn't sure what anymore, but it was starting to numb all the confusion she felt.

Why had Fenris had to tell her he loved her? Why had she told him about her Calling? She had made things so much worse for him. She didn't even know what to do, what to say, how to feel. All she knew is she wished they'd been honest with each other from the start, and then she would never had let it get this far for either of them. And to top it off now Alistair was here, of all the bloody places in Thedas. Not to mention Teagan had seen her? Shit, shit, shit. She should have bloody stayed in Antiva or gone to Par Vollen, no one would have found her there.

She finished her drink and let her head drop to the table. Nothing good was going to come of this at all.  
"I hope you are still lucid enough to talk, my Lady?" Teagan's voice roused her from her pitiful state. "And have enough for me. I think I'll need it." He sat down beside her. She raised her head to look at him. He looked only slightly older than he had when she'd last seen him, a few grey hairs among the red.  
"It tastes like crap by the way." She pushed the bottle towards him, "But your brother had a lot of awful tasting crap in his wine cellar, so I'm sure you're used to it."  
Teagan laughed. "Glad to see death hasn't curbed that sharp tongue of yours."  
"Not yet."  
He took a tentative sip of the liquor, only slightly curling his lips in distate. "I'm not here for my benefit." He said, "I'm here for his."  
"Alistair?"  
"You cannot even comprehend what your death, did to him."  
"Oh really?" This should be good.  
"Yes, really, and before you think that I do not know what went on between the two of you, you are wrong. It was quite clear how you felt about each other when you came to Redcliffe, that you were both involved. He loved you very much."  
"Did he indeed?" She laughed bitterly. "Well did he tell you the bit where he proposed to make me his mistress after he became King? To keep me on the side whilst he got himself a wife and heirs. Where was his love then?" She snapped at him. He hadn't loved her enough to keep any of his promises had he?  
"I'm afraid so. Eamon's idea I am loathe to say to keep Alistair happy."  
"Eamon's?" That was news to her.  
"Alistair wanted to marry you, have you as his wife, was sure, and rightly so, that the Landsmeet and the people of Fereldan would accept you. But Eamon talked him out if it, convinced him he needed to find a more suitable wife, especially one without Grey Warden... fertility issues. I supposed he was worried that there could be another civil war to take the throne should Alistair die childless."  
"How thoughtful." She didn't know if she felt better or worse with that knowledge. How could Alistair have listened to that man? The one who made him sleep in the stables and sent him to the Chantry when he was ten, forcing him in to a life of lyrium addiction and chastity if he hadn't been recruited by Duncan! Fuck, it made her feel even angrier, feelings from those dark days rising up inside her again.  
"Anyway, I diverge. What happened cannot be undone. What I have to tell you is that Alistair has been but a shadow of a man since word of your death reached him. He needs closure, he needs to see you. He was convinced for a long time he thought you still alive, that it wasn't you assassinated by Crows. I guess he was always right."  
"What do you want me to do? I can't just announce to Fereldan it was all a bloody ruse!"  
"Go see him, please, you need to see him. I know so much was left unsaid after the Landsmeet, he is consumed by guilt and regret. It would be good for both of you."  
"I can't..."  
"Please, Eve, if you ever loved him,"  
"Do not ever doubt how much I loved him!" She snarled at Teagan. "It drove me to despair to not be with him, so never doubt that!"  
"I'm sorry." At least he had the decency to look it.  
"I will see him, I won't promise it'll do any good for either of us, but I'll do it." She sighed, snatching the bottle back from Teagan and poured herself another measure.  
"Thank you. Will you come tonight? The sooner the better."  
"Fine."  
"We're staying at the Viscounts estate,"  
"I know where it is."  
"Good. Come at eight. I will be expecting you."  
She nodded, words evading her, as Teagan took his leave.  
She let her head fall to the table again.

"So, we met Alistair." She heard Garrett's voice after some time.  
"Good for you." She mumbled.  
"Would have got back sooner but apparently today is the day everyone wants something. Plus I thought you'd want to speak with Teagan alone." He sat down next to her. "How many of these have you drunk?"  
"Not enough." She grumbled.  
"I couldn't see it," Varric began, "what you saw in him? I mean seriously Deadly, he's a bit of a sap."  
She turned her head to look at him. "Not when you get to know him he's not."  
"What did Teagan have to say?" Garrett asked.  
"He wants me to see Alistair."  
"What did you tell him?" Fuck, she didn't know Fenris was here, she turned to look at him, and all she saw in his eyes was hurt. She had to turn away.  
"I said I would. Tonight."  
"You sure that's a good idea, Deadly? He thinks you're dead, he might just think he's gone batshit crazy at seeing you!"  
"I need to. When I left I wasn't running from him, I was escaping something else. I had to pretend I was dead and I was too selfish to see how it would make other people suffer."  
"But he broke your heart!" Garrett said. "He hurt you irreparably."  
"Not irreparably. Maker, you're dramatic sometimes." She rolled her eyes at him.  
"He still loves you." Fenris suddenly said. "He spoke about you to Hawke, recognised him from Lothering when you and he passed through. There is no doubt of his feelings regarding you."  
"It doesn't really matter now does it?" She told him. "Look, I'm going because it's the right thing to do."  
"You love him still don't you?" Fenris accused sharply.  
"I..." She didn't know, she felt so confused. She was in love with Fenris, that was certain, but Alistair... It was Alistair. She had felt every emotion possible over him, and then pretended he had never existed when it hurt too much. She had never really thought about how she truly felt after all this time, she only knew how much she had loved him, how much he had meant to her.  
"That is all the answer I need." The elf replied bitterly when Eve said no more.  
"I don't need this!" She shouted, getting up, anger quickly blinding her, anger at Fenris, Teagan, Alistair, the whole damn situation. "Not now, not here, not fucking ever!"  
"That's it, leave again! You are so very good at it!" Fenris sneered at her.  
She just looked at him, angry, hurt, sorry she'd allowed the two of them to get in the mess of emotions they were now. And he was right. She did bloody run. When it was something she couldn't fight or kill or threaten, she ran. Coward.  
Eve got up from her seat silently and walked out. There was nothing more to say.


	50. Chapter Fifty

Chapter 50

Eve wandered around Lowtown aimlessly after leaving the Hanged Man. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, of memories. She was being plagued by an assortment of emotions she couldn't unravel, for the two men she couldn't get out of her head or her heart.

She returned to Garrett's estate, took a bath, dressed, applied her usual makeup, brushed out her hair and braided it loosely in monotonous silence.  
Before long she heard the Chantry bells chime for the evening prayers and song, it meant it was almost nine. If she left now she'd be at the Viscounts estate just after. Or maybe she could just not leave at all? She had a bottle of brandy hidden under her bed, she could spend the night within its amnesia inducing depths.  
She took a deep breath and stared at herself in the mirror, looking at a woman that looked just like the one who had travelled the length and breadth of Fereldan, but inside was nothing like her.  
Back then she used to be this young woman who still held out hope for a happy ending, to find her knight in shining armour. She used to have dreams, fanciful hopes of a bright future. She used to have a love for life after being free of her father, she would grasp it with both hands, and not want to let go. Her eyes had always been aflame with an inner fire, but she looked at those grey orbs now, they looked empty, sad, lost. Time changed everything eventually and it had certainly changed her.  
She turned away from the mirror, knowing full well she had to do this. She'd been running for years, even when she stayed in one place she still tried to hide from the truth around her, and she needed to stop, at least for the moment. Maybe if she saw Alistair, talked with him, it would help fix this broken thing inside she still felt every time she thought about him. Fuck, how she hated he had such a hold on her heart after five years.

She stood outside the Viscount's estate, heart thudding in her chest. Two of Alistair's Kings-guards stood by the entrance. She wasn't sure if she should just ask for Alistair, or if Teagan wanted to see her first.  
"I need to see The King." She told them.  
"And you are?" One of the helmeted guards asked in a tinny voice.  
"I'll attend to this." Teagan came from around the corner.  
"Very well, my Lord." The Guard replied.  
"I didn't think you would come." Teagan told her with a nervous smile.  
"Nor did I." She sighed wearily. "What have you told him?"  
"Nothing. I've never been entirely sure how to broach the subject of you in the past, let alone now, knowing that you're alive. I thought maybe it was best if he just saw you."  
"This is a bloody terrible idea." She said quietly. "Fine. Let me get this over with."  
"This way, my Lady." Teagan entered through the main doors and Eve could only follow.

Up several flights of stairs, past more guards and servants who gave her strange sideways glances, probably wondering who this woman was following Teagan, obviously on their way to the Kings suite.  
They stopped in front of a set of very large doors, without guards.  
"He refuses to have guards posted outside his suite." Teagan told her. "I try to tell him it's for his own safety, but he won't listen." He looked at her with a meek smile. "Are you ready?"  
"No." She grumbled. "But I'm never going to be ready."  
Teagan nodded at her words and then knocked on the door sharply.  
"Alistair?" He called.  
"Go away Teagan, I said I wanted to be left alone." Alistair called back, and though his voice was muffled by the door it was enough to twist Eve's heart and stomach, the urge to run making her legs tremble.  
"Just go in, there is nothing I can say through a door that will prepare him or make him believe it is you." Teagan told her, his hand already turning the elaborate doorknob and pushing it open.

Eve stepped through the doorway, because there was nothing else to do but step through. She heard the door click shut behind her.  
"I said I wanted to be alone." Eve's eyes snapped to where Alistair's voice came from.  
He was stood in front of the giant hearth opposite her, his back turned to her, head bowed. He was wearing only a white loose shirt and brown breeches. The sight of him brought a lump to her throat, her heart beating like a deafening drum. "What do you want, Teagan? It better be important..." He turned round to face her. His eyes went wide, his skin paled, he stared at her as if she weren't really there and all Eve could think was how he looked just the same except for that spark he'd always had in his honey eyes, no matter how dire the situation, was missing.

"I've finally gone mad." He managed to say in a strangled whisper. "It's actually happened." He brought his hands to his eyes taking a shaking breath, removed them and obviously saw she was still there.  
"You've not gone mad." She finally said, just able to speak around the choking lump in her throat. "I'm really here."  
"But... you're dead? How can you be here if you're dead?"  
"I faked my death." She admitted softly. "I had no choice."  
"No choice? NO CHOICE?" He roared, the first time she had ever heard his voice rise with such ferocity. "Do you know what your death did to me? Do you know we had a funeral service? The whole of Fereldan in mourning for their Hero! I travelled to Vigils Keep to unveil a memorial statue of you! Tell me what could have made you do such an awful thing!"  
"Why in the Void do you care?" She spat at him. "I haven't been a concern of yours since the fucking Landsmeet! You have more important things to worry about now than why I did what I had to do!"  
"There has never been anything more important than you! Not since I first fell in love with you." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed in deep sadness.  
"Your throne was more important." Eve spoke quietly turning away from Alistair. The intensity of his glare too much to bear in such a small room.  
"No it wasn't. It was just a confusing time. You made me King, Eamon was telling me all these things about what was expected of me, that I'd need a wife,"  
"Well at least you've got that position filled from what I've heard." Eve couldn't help the spite in her voice.  
"Yes." He bowed his head. "But it's not... it's not what you think."  
"A young pretty nobleman's daughter? Decent breeding? Bet she's pretty, likeable, sweet?" No scars, no calloused hands, no mad parents and no course mouth.  
"Yes, she is, but she's not you."  
"Then you're very lucky."  
"What? How can you say that?" Alistair started to step towards her and Eve stepped away, her back coming up against the door and he stopped seeing her obvious discomfort, which only made his face twist in distress. "To me you were, are, perfect." He continued. "I wanted to be with you forever, I never wanted things to end between us."  
"As long as I agreed to be your mistress? Oh, and I already know that was Eamon's consolation prize because you wanted to have me as your wife but he didn't like that idea. How many seconds did he take to change your mind? Five?"  
"You don't think I regret that?"  
"No, I don't."  
"Well I do. Constantly. Even more so when I received word of your death. And even more so now you're here."  
"Look, I came here because Teagan saw me in Hightown. He talked me in to coming here to speak with you, for what good it's done so far.  
"It wasn't your fault I faked my death. Weishauppt ordered me to go to them. They wanted to question me about why I was still alive after killing the Archdemon. You can guess that wouldn't have been me sitting around with the First Warden drinking tea. I was not about to find out the Grey Warden way of extracting information and I wasn't going to tell them what had to be done to ensure we survived."  
"Why didn't you come to me? I could have helped you, protected you!"  
"I couldn't."  
"Couldn't or wouldn't?"  
Eve shrugged. "Both. But I don't think you could have helped me against the Grey Wardens. Besides which, it's done now."  
"Weren't you concerned about those you left behind?"  
"Truthfully? No. I just wanted to escape. From Weishauppt, the Wardens, Fereldan. You."  
"Me?" Alistair asked astounded.  
"You think finding out I was dead was awful? How about finding out the promises you had made to me were worth nothing. Finding out you thought me only good enough to be your mistress and that in the year we travelled together you never thought once to mention I couldn't have children with you or, more than likely, at all. Then, despite that, I had to live with making you go through that ritual with Morrigan to father a child and know how much you hated me for it!"  
"I'm sorry. I will always be sorry for what I did. But what made you think I hated you? I hated her, but I knew why it was necessary, but I never hated you for it."  
"Don't lie." She seethed at him. "I saw how you looked at me on that rooftop when I plunged my sword through that dragon, at your coronation, and at that ridiculous ceremony to announce me as a bloody Hero!"  
"You idiot! I hated myself! You think I didn't hear you sobbing behind your closed door after the Landsmeet? Saw you passed out drunk after I'd been with Morrigan? To see how you avoided me at all costs! I wanted nothing more to wrap you in my arms and tell you I was sorry, beg for your forgiveness, try and work out a way to make it alright again."

He stepped towards her, so close Eve could make out a new scar on his chin, a few light lines at the edges of his eyes. She was suffocating with him so near, drowning in memories and emotions, yet he continued to step towards until she had to hold out her hand and forcibly halt him.  
"Don't." She told him, glancing up in to his face. "Just don't." She couldn't deal with him within touching distance, it was too confusing, too distracting, too much after years apart, angry and bitter at him.  
"I have missed you so much." He breathed, ignoring her, his hand wrapping around the one she held out in front of her. Strong, large and calloused, the feel of it around her fingers dredging up a memory of their first night together as he led her to his tent. "I never really thought you were dead. I lived in hope I'd see you again. It drove everyone crazy. But I was right, which is a first." She caught a glimpse of that lopsided smile of his and it made her close her eyes and turn away. "I wish I'd never listened to Eamon. I wish I'd listened to my heart, made you my wife as I wanted to. I wish I could spend the rest of my days with you making up for lost time." She felt him gently take hold of her chin, turning her to face him. "Please don't hide from me. I've spent so long dreaming of looking in to your eyes again."  
Eve couldn't help but do as he asked, as if some spell had been placed upon her. She found him closer than he'd been before.  
"I love you so much." He breathed and then his lips were on hers.

For a moment time had reversed by five years. Eve was not in Kirkwall, Alistair was not the King of Fereldan, the throne, the hurt, the anger had not separated them. Those lips that had promised, had spoken of love, were just as she remembered, warm and soft against her mouth. Those arms, strong, capable, that he had wrapped around her when the fight had seemed impossible, when hurts became too much, held her firm against the muscled contours of his body. All of him just as she remembered, except... except... it wasn't the same. His body was wider, taller than one she had become accustomed to in recent years. His hair shorter, his shoulders broader, his ears rounded, and though she certainly could not dispute the skill of his lips, his tongue sliding against hers, it just wasn't the same. He did not sate that desire within, did not feed that hunger, his touch did not heat her to her core as if she would combust in to flame as Fenris's touch did. As Alistair used to.

He pulled away before Eve had the chance to, pressing his forehead to hers in a shaky sigh, a smile on his lips.  
"I almost forgot how amazing it was to kiss you." He said. "Maker, I missed you Eve. Come back with me to Fereldan. We don't have to say who you are; you don't have to go back to the Wardens. You can stay at the Palace with me, I'll keep you safe."  
Eve pulled away from him. "Stay at the Palace with you?" She laughed bitterly. "Won't your wife, your queen, have something to say about that? I wouldn't be your mistress six years ago, I certainly won't be now!"  
"You wouldn't be my mistress, you'd be so much more than that! I can't change the fact I'm married, but I'd only be with you, I only ever want to be with you! My wife be damned!" He spoke desperately.  
"What about those heirs you so desperately need?"  
"That... won't be a problem." He said quietly, looking away. "Before I left Fereldan it was confirmed, she is with... that is to say I managed to..."  
"Fuck. She's carrying your child isn't she?" Eve asked, though from the way he turned away from her, a hint of red on his cheeks, she knew the answer.  
"Yes." He admitted. "And that is why I won't be with her anymore. I've done my duty and now I want to find whatever happiness I can with you."  
"Well you won't bloody find it!" She told him angrily. "You think I spent the whole time we weren't together lonely? You think I didn't fuck anyone else?" She spat at him, moving out of his reach.  
He flinched at her angry words, but she didn't care. How could he think they'd pick up where they left off especially when he had a wife, would soon be a father.  
"I didn't... I don't... I'm not sure what I thought. I knew I was not your first and I tried not to think about you with others when you left for Amaranthine. But I suppose it was foolish to think you'd not."  
"I'm sure you had fun with all the noble women who threw themselves at such an eligible bachelor. And I'm quite aware of what it takes to make a child despite my lack of ability to carry one."  
"There was never anyone after you except Gilda. I did what I had to."  
"Why can't you find happiness with her?"  
"Because I only had it with you. Please, Eve, come back with me. I can make you happy."  
She sighed wearily. "Alistair, you can't. Not anymore."  
"What do you mean not anymore? What's changed?" He walked over, turning her to face him, his voice distressed.  
"I will always love you," she managed to say, as he choked the moment the word 'love' left her lips. "You were everything I'd ever hoped for, all I wanted. I gave you everything I had, heart and soul. You left me empty, lost, a shell of a person. Until..." She looked up at him, his eyes were wet with tears, realisation. "I'm not in love with you anymore. I thought I was, even today, but I'm not."  
He seemed to crumble internally at her words, like he finally understood what she'd felt all those years ago after the Landsmeet. But she hadn't meant to make him feel that way, she took no pleasure in it, she was only being honest.  
"Is it someone else?" He asked hoarsely.  
"Yes."  
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He laughed emptily. "You are incredibly easy to fall in love with after all."  
"I'm really bloody not."  
He scoffed. "And people claim I'm dense." He looked at her, pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear with tenderness. Eve didn't stop him, there was little point. "Does he make you happy?"  
"Why does that matter?"  
"Because I want you to be happy, even if it's with someone else. You deserve to be happy."  
"He could, but it matters little."  
"What do you mean could? He either does or he doesn't! Maker! You never used to be this difficult about such things!"  
"It's because it's not simple." She looked down at her hands, curling and uncurling them in to fists.  
"What are you hiding?" Alistair asked with suspicion. "I know that look on your face. That was the same look you had when you told me everything was going to be alright after rescuing that bitch Anora and instead let yourself be arrested in place of everyone else, including me!"  
"No chance you'd fall for it again?" She looked at him, his face stern and somehow she knew that was the face he used when addressing his people as King. "That's a no then." She grumbled. "Okay, so... I don't have as much time before my Calling as you." She began, knowing there was no easy way to say what she had to. "I found out from documents the Orlesian Wardens brought with them when they came to Amaranthine, that those who join during the Blight, well the taint we take in is made stronger by the presence of an Archdemon. Then with constantly fighting against them, time in the Deep Roads, it's accelerated it. I thought I had at least a decade from my Joining before it would start... But I don't. It's started already. I can hear notes of a song calling me to search deep in the earth for the other dragons, the old Gods. I think I probably have a year at most before..." The words didn't need to be said, they were both Grey Wardens. They knew where they went at the end.  
"But that's not fair!" Alistair cried out. "How can that be? Why weren't you told before?"  
"There was an awful lot that we weren't told before the Battle of Ostagar, Alistair. This is just something else Duncan didn't bother to share."  
"I'm so sorry. It shouldn't be like this."  
"Don't I know it." She mumbled.  
"Surely something could be done? Come back with me to Fereldan, I'll ask Wynne to come back. She could do something, slow it down,"  
"Alistair." She held a hand to his face to put a stop to his thoughts. "You know just as well as I there is nothing to be done. It's just another form of taint sickness."  
"How can you be so calm about it?" He demanded angrily, though Eve knew it was because he was upset.  
"I'm not. I'm angry, furious about it. Devastated by it. I never wanted to be a Grey Warden and I don't want to believe that this is happening already, but it is."  
"This is awful." He told he, defeated.  
"Yes, it is."  
"I want to come with you when you go." He said suddenly.  
"Don't be ridiculous!" She told him exasperated. "You're the King, your wife is going to have your baby! I won't let you leave that!"  
"I can't just let you go without word, to wonder if you were wrong, if you're dead or not!"  
"Then I will write and tell you when I'm going, once I know, when I know I can't leave it have any longer. That will have to suffice."  
"It's not enough."  
"It never was going to be. It never will be."  
"So is this why he doesn't make you happy? He doesn't want to be with you because of this?"  
Eve shrugged. "I don't know. I told him and then kind of ran out on him. But even if it doesn't matter, I will only make him miserable."  
"If he feels even a little of the love I do for you, then trust me when I say being without you while he still can has him feeling miserable already. You should at least talk to him."  
"I don't know..."  
"Don't be alone if you needn't be. I want you so much to be happy. I'm only sorry I couldn't do that before and I can't do that now."  
"I was happy during the Blight. When we were together. The happiest I'd ever felt." She admitted.  
"Me too, despite all the, you know, darkspawn and people sending us on perilous quests!" He managed a smile, as charming and sweet as it had always been.  
"It's a worrying state of our lives that we could be so happy in the middle of a bloody Blight." She agreed.

They were silent for a while before Alistair cleared his throat and spoke up.  
"I need to know before I return to Fereldan... Can you forgive me for what I did to you? When I was given news of your death all I could do was regret all I'd done, or not done, and how I'd hurt you. I was a mess. Teagan thought if I could focus on someone else I would feel better, get over you, which is why I'd agreed to marry Gilda. But it didn't work and I thought I used to see you in the strangest places. I used to think it was you alive and well, then I thought it was your ghost haunting me."  
She looked at him awkwardly.  
"Be honest, please." He begged.  
"I don't know if I can." She sighed. "I want to, I do, but you hurt me so much, you broke my heart and made me feel worthless. I hate Eamon for what he said, but I am so angry at you for listening to that bastard. But it happened, it can't be changed. I want to try and forgive you."  
"Does it make you more likely to forgive me if I tell you that you're forgiven for faking your death?" He asked tentatively with a small smile.  
"Yes, a little. I never thought it would affect you like it did."  
"Can I write to you?"  
"Of course. I go by Eve Thorne now though. I'm living at the Hawke Estate."  
"Wait, I met him today! The Champion right? Your friend from Lothering?" He sounded incredulous. "He didn't say anything!"  
"Of course he didn't, I made him swear he wouldn't."  
"What a git!"  
"Alistair..."  
"Well he is! He started getting all weepy eyed talking about you and he was lying!"  
"He was probably thinking of all the painful things I'd do to him if he let slip I was here."  
"Hmm, good point. You could always be a little scary." He waggled his fingers at her dramatically. "For what it's worth I'm truly sorry."  
"I know, thank you for that. But I should probably leave you now. It's late."  
"Yeah, early start back to Denerim." He said glumly before he pulled her in to a hug. "Try and be happy, Eve, for whatever time you have left. Don't throw away the chance of happiness like I did."  
"Only if you take your own advice." She replied, hugging him back. "It can't be all that bad being King."

"I will or I'll try at least. And, no, it has it's benefits, like all the cheese I can eat." He laughed lightly and pulled away, looking intently at her face before he pressed his lips against hers. She didn't push him away, didn't tell him to stop, just enjoyed the kiss for the bittersweet memories it evoked. A last goodbye to her feelings for Alistair she'd held on to for far too long.

When they parted he looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "Whoever this man is, if he has your love he's the luckiest man in Thedas." He told her wistfully.  
"Thank you Alistair." Eve didn't quite believe him, but she'd always found refusing his compliments to fall on deaf ears. "I hope you can be happy. With your wife, the baby." She managed to say. "I'm sure you will. You'll make a wonderful father, you did always want a family."  
"Yes, but with you." He said sadly. "Goodbye Eve. Please write, let me know you're alright. If you come back to Fereldan, if you change your mind..." Eve gave him a look to say she wouldn't. "Right, yes, of course you won't. Just be careful here, Kirkwall isn't the safest place to be at the moment. A lot of crazy Templar's and desperate mages."  
"Just like Ferelden then." She told him dryly. "Goodbye and safe travels, Alistair. I'll let myself out."  
He nodded and Eve turned away, but not before she saw a stray tear run silently down his cheek.

She walked out in to the cool night air. She felt lighter, not different necessarily, but as if she wasn't carrying around a burden of pain, feeling that she was actually free of some of the regret and anger she'd always felt since Alistair. Then she thought of Fenris, thought of how much she was in love with him, how much she'd probably hurt him when she'd told him about her Calling, and how he'd probably be feeling right now knowing she had seen Alistair. She didn't need to be going off to the Deep Roads to make him miserable, she'd done it already.

Eve had stopped running from one man, she decided she needed to stop running from another.


	51. Chapter Fifty-One

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has continued to read, review, follow and favourite. This chapter has been a long time coming I know!  
PS. Who saw the teaser trailor for DA:Inquisition?! My goodness I am excited, especially seeing Varric and Morrigan! (I'm not the only one hoping he'll be a companion and possible LI am I?! lol)

OoW

Chapter 51

Fenris's mansion was eerily quiet as Eve walked through the door and in to the main hall.  
She looked up towards his room, the only room he used in this sprawling mansion, to see the door was shut. He'd said it was the only room he used because it didn't remind him of Danarius like the rest of the place did, that it didn't feel tainted by the magic he hated so much.

Eve ascended the stairs; sure she was doing the right thing. She was sick of running, hiding, pretending. Even if Fenris didn't want to spend the last months of her life with her at least she wouldn't die regretting having never told him how she really felt.  
She stood outside the door listening for sound, but hearing only the muted crackle of damp logs in the hearth. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, thankfully finding it unlocked.

Eve looked around the sparse room before her eyes settled on Fenris's form, hunched over on the bench in front of the fire, a bottle in one hand, his head resting in the other. From the obviously empty bottles by his feet this is where he had spent most of the evening.  
"Fenris?" Her voice was quiet, cautious.  
He turned only slightly at the sound of her voice, but he did not look up.  
"I was not expecting you." He spoke, his voice deeper than she'd ever heard it, and definitely angry. "I finally warranted a goodbye this time, did I?"  
"Goodbye?" She replied, confused.  
He finally turned to her. His brows were drawn down severely, his scowl deep, hurt radiated from his eyes. "Yes, goodbye. No doubt you shall be returning with your King to Fereldan. Finally ready to be his mistress after he begged for your return." He spat at her.  
"You're drunk." She told him, more than a little annoyed she'd found him like this, being so bloody bitter and thinking things that weren't true.  
"No. Unfortunately I am not." He raised the bottle in his hands to his lips before draining the remaining liquid and throwing the empty vessel in to the fire to shatter loudly. "Just say goodbye and get out. I am sure his bed is getting cold without you." He sneered before turning away.  
"You fucking arsehole." She finally managed to say, shocked by his words. "You really think Alistair could just show up and I'd go back to him? Is that how little you really think of me?"  
Fenris remained silent, the air thick with anger and hurt.  
"Fine. I'll leave." She turned away towards the door. "But before I do I just want to let you know," she began, looking over her shoulder at his hunched over form. "I came here to tell you how I feel about you. I'm done with lying. I love you, Fenris. I'm completely in love with you and only you.  
"And yes, Alistair did want me to go back with him, he begged me to. But when he kissed me all I wanted was you." She sighed as he did nothing, said nothing, and she turned away. "You think you have nothing to offer me. You think you aren't good enough for me, but you're wrong. I have even less to offer you and if we were together it will not end happily for us. I just... needed you to know what I really felt for you."

She began to leave again, not bothering to fight the tears that sprang from her eyes, weighed down by her heavy heart, wanting to just get away from here, from him, to be alone, when she felt his hand grasp hers, stilling her body, her heart. She felt the heat of him at her back, though he did not touch her further  
"Do not leave." He whispered in to her hair. "Stay."  
"I only came to tell you how I felt. I don't expect anything from you." Eve whispered in return, as if speaking any louder would break the both of them. "It would be better for you if you let me leave. You wouldn't have to see me again. I'd go away and you could forget about me, get on with your life."  
On her last words he moved in front of her and she was forced to look at him, love and pain flaring within her as she gazed in to his eyes that stared at her from under his fringe.  
"My life is nothing without you in it." He told her. "I will not have you leave."  
"You don't know what you're asking for, Fenris. I won't be able to give you a family. We won't be able to grow old together..." She couldn't help but choke on the words, feeling the loss at the things she would never have with him, tears quietly rolling down her cheeks.  
He reached up and gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  
"I don't care." He stated firmly. "I was a slave, I was never allowed to hope for such things let alone want for them. I never even thought I could love another, not with all this hate I feel inside. You changed that and since I realised such a thing I have only ever hoped for you. Just you." He told her fiercely. "I never had choices in my life before, but I have made this one. I choose to be with you, Eve, for however long we can be together. Even if we only had the rest of this night, I would rather have that than not have you at all."  
She stared at him, not doubting his words, but in disbelief at the strength of his feelings, that he wanted her and loved her that much. How had she not seen this before? Not realised?  
"I need to tell you…to be honest. While I was in Starkhaven…" She couldn't go in to this with him without him knowing she had been with others. The guilt would eat away at her, it had already started to.  
"If you're going to tell me about... others you sought solace with while you were gone. Don't. I gave you no reason to make you think I had not done the same. We should have both been honest of our feelings from the beginning." That was an understatement.  
She looked in to his deep green eyes. "I love you." Eve told him with conviction. "I think you're a bloody fool to want me, but I do love you."  
Fenris answered by crushing his mouth to hers, aggressive, as if he were truly claiming her for his own.

Their tongues met in the scorching heat of their kiss, hands tearing at each other's clothing without a care for whether shirts were ripped or buckles broken, just the need to feel one another after so long apart.  
This was primal, needful, about pent up desires, unfulfilled wants, and finally resolved love. Eve wanted him so utterly it was almost painful. To have him a part of her. Joined body, heart and soul.

Fenris pulled her to the hard floor, lips never leaving hers, hands weaving through her hair, lying between her thighs but not attempting to enter her. She ran her hands over his luscious skin, relearning the contours of his muscles, the geography of his scars.  
Fenris moved his lips from hers and began to bite and kiss a trail down her body. Teasing her breasts with tongue and teeth, gently kissing the plane of her stomach, his fingers curling around her hips, when he came to a stop just above her sex.  
"What are you doing?" She asked breathlessly.  
"Something I've been waiting more than two years to do." He replied, his warm breath against her skin making her moan in anticipation, and then he was between her legs.  
Eve couldn't focus on anything except the pure pleasure Fenris was bestowing unto her. She couldn't stop herself from crying out loudly as his tongue lapped and his mouth sucked at the most shudder inducing pace at the most sensitive parts of her.  
His name was a litany from between her lips as she raced towards a powerful climax, her whole body trembling with imminent release as Fenris licked her swollen nub with his tactile tongue, her back bowing with the intensity of his strokes.  
She brushed her hands over the tips of both his ears, a moan rising from his throat to vibrate against her and her world exploded in rapture, bright lights bursting behind her eyes, pleasure coursing through her body as she cried out until her throat was hoarse.

When the room stopped spinning, her body had finished convulsing; she looked up to find Fenris leaning on his arms over her, his eyes watching her intently.  
"You are beautiful." He told her, pressing a kiss to her lips, his tongue sliding languidly against hers.  
Eve wrapped her legs around his waist and pulling him flush against her, feeling him hard against her centre. She rolled her hips against him and watched his eyes shut as he slid against her.  
"Fenris. I want you inside me." She whispered.  
"Already?" He asked raggedly, the rumble of his voice making her moan just as it always did.  
"I've missed you too much to wait any longer." She reasoned.  
"You," he playfully bit her bottom lip making her writhe against his solid arousal, "are," he kissed along her jawline, "too," he gently bit her left earlobe, "impatient." He breathed heavily in to her ear, before thrusting forcefully inside her.  
She cried out as he filled her, nails digging in to his upper arms. He groaned in to her ear before pulling out and filling her again, slowly but oh so wonderfully. Every inch of her body on fire as they moved against each other, mouths ravenous for one another.  
She was getting so close to her peak again, unable to help herself from moving faster against him as she felt that ecstasy build inside her, waiting for another powerful release.  
Eve pulled her mouth from his, her eyes locking on to the luminous green ones that stared down at her.  
"I love you." She told him through heavy breaths. She could see his eyes dilate fully at her words, feel the tremor that ran through his body, how his thrusts became even deeper, desperate.  
"I love you too." He replied in a low whisper, and the words had Eve crying out in orgasm, as Fenris too came within her at the same time. His eyes never leaving hers.

Sometime after and Eve was still entwined in Fenris's arms. They had not moved from the hard cold floor but she was uncaring of that.  
"What now?" She asked finally, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice, the memory of how he'd been after their first time together on her mind. They may have slept together many times since then, but they had never made love like they had just done, and they had never enjoyed being curled around one another afterwards. She wasn't sure what to do.  
"Did you wish to go?" He asked, running his long fingers through her hair which had loosed from her braid.  
"No." She replied, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers.  
"Then don't. I certainly won't be making you. Not ever again." He kissed her mouth softly and Eve couldn't help the satisfied sigh that escaped her.  
"Your hair is very beautiful like this." He said when he pulled away.  
"I was thinking of cutting it again." She said, moving one of her hands to trace one of his ears, feeling him shiver delightfully under her touch, bringing a smile to her face.  
"Please don't. It would be such a shame." He still continued to run his fingers through it, but turned so he could gaze upon Eve's face.  
"I didn't know you had a weakness for long hair?" She grinned.  
"Only yours." He hummed contentedly, before he suddenly rolled atop her, that deliciously naughty smirk on his lips, making Eve's heart race, even more so when she felt his quickly hardening length against her inner thighs.  
"You know, people boast about Grey Warden stamina, but they have nothing on you!" She chuckled.  
"I'm making up for lost time." He growled, his lips going to her throat, as Eve closed her eyes in bliss.

It wouldn't be the last occasion they made up for lost time that evening.


	52. Chapter Fifty-Two

I'm sorry I've been so delayed with this update, real life can be very time consuming and I had a touch of writers block for a time!  
Thank you to all my new followers and favouriters, and to all those that keep coming back to read and review!

OoW

Chapter 52

Sometime in the night, or rather the early hours of the morning, Fenris and Eve had moved from the floor of his room to the more comfortable surroundings of his bed.  
There had been little sleeping, neither of them wanted to waste time with that, but between making love they'd talked. Eve had told him about her travels through Starkhaven. Fenris told her about what had happened in Kirkwall while she was away, which had not been much surprisingly enough.  
He spoke to her of anything that came to mind, but they didn't speak of her Calling. Not only could Fenris not bear to think of Eve having to leave one day to those darkspawn filled tunnels to die, but he couldn't bear to think of having to continue on without her. So it was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they would not talk of it, and at least try not to think about it. All Fenris could hope for is that Eve had greatly underestimated the time she had left.

Fenris was awake now, though Eve still dozed lightly, her head resting on his chest, one of her arms slung over his stomach and her legs entwined with his. The blanket that they'd pulled over them after they had last been together was pulled low past her rear and Fenris couldn't help but gaze appreciatively down the length of her body, the dip of her waist, swell of her hips, her long shapely legs. He felt his arousal for her growing yet again.  
"Are you staring?" Eve suddenly spoke sleepily.  
He looked down to see her eyes were still closed but she had a smile on her face.  
"Maybe." He replied as he ran the backs of his fingers over the side of her face.  
"Mmm, and from what I can feel," she brushed her fingers against his length making him shudder, "you like what you see."  
"Something like that." He told her breathily, her eyes flicking up to meet his before she tilted her head to press a kiss against his chin. Then, unexpectedly, before he could run his hands over her soft skin, she shimmied down his body, under the blanket and was running her tongue up and down his length.  
Every thought he had in his head was removed and replaced with the pure bliss of Eve's skillful mouth which had him moaning and gripping the sheets beneath him until he felt himself getting close to losing himself in her mouth, as she moved faster, hot tongue and lips wrapped around him, deft fingers tracing the markings on his hips and stomach.

As his back bent in readiness for release, the tight coil of rapture about to break, the door to his room was swung open with a deafening bang.  
"She's gone!" Hawke yelled. "The King left this morning and I can't find Eve anywhere! She left with him! She... Woah!" Hawke had apparently now surveyed the scene in front of him.  
Fenris was cursing the Gods, the Maker, whatever and whoever could hear him in that moment.  
He felt Eve huff angrily against him, still under the blankets between his legs.  
"Caught you at a bad time, Broody?" Varric chuckled from behind Hawke, who had turned away and was muttering about things he really could have gotten through life without seeing.  
"Venhadis! Fasta vass!" Fenris spat out angrily. "What do you want?"  
"Well I don't know about these two," Isabela strutted from around Hawke, a decidedly deviant grin on her face. "But I'd quite like to see the talented sweet thing that you've apparently worked up quite an appetite on!"  
"Get out." He told them, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about how Hawke, Varric and the pirate had found him and, though they didn't know it yet, Eve.  
"Get out?" Hawke raved. "We come to tell you that Eve's gone and that's all you can say? And we find you with some... some... whatever you have there! In your bed!"  
Fenris was about to tell Hawke that he was sure she hadn't when her felt her shift carefully, thankfully without pulling the blanket off and exposing him to their audience.  
"Don't you have anything to say?" Hawke continued. "Don't you care? Don't you... Eve?"  
She had popped her head from under the blankets, being sure to cover her modesty.  
"You have the bloody worst timing, Garrett." She muttered. "You ever heard of knocking? It was founded around the same time as the invention of doors."  
"I thought... I didn't know..." Hawke stammered turning red.  
"Ha! I knew it!" Varric announced triumphantly. "I didn't think for a second you'd run back to that other guy!"  
"So this is where you've been all night while I've been worrying about you?" Hawke berated her, though he still appeared to be embarrassed at finding his oldest friend in such a predicament.  
"You know I can take care of myself, Garrett." Eve replied wearily, as if she had told him so a hundred times before.  
"Apparently Fenris can help with that too!" Isabela winked at him, drawing an exasperated sigh from Fenris.  
"That doesn't mean I wasn't worried about you after you left the Hanged Man yesterday and I didn't see you again!" Garrett ignored the pirate. "And you could have told me!" He turned to Fenris.  
"It slipped my mind." Fenris told him.  
"So you're not leaving Kirkwall and you two are... together?" Hawke asked Eve.  
"Yes and yes." She replied.  
"Well, good. I'm glad, really glad!" He smiled.  
"Yeah, only took you what? Almost three years?" Varric smirked.  
Fenris didn't need reminding. It had been such a ridiculous waste of precious time.  
"Well now you know where I am and who I'm with you can all carry on with your day and leave us alone. We were somewhat busy before you arrived." Eve told them.  
Hawke reddened at her words. "Oh! Oh, yes, of course! We'll see you both later." He walked away, followed by Varric, but Isabela stood right where she was, apparently with no intentions to move.  
"Get out, Isabela!" Fenris snapped at her.  
"Oh, come on! You know I've always wanted to see if your delicious tattoos go all the way down! Let me see?" She pleaded.  
"No!" He answered sternly.  
"You are so bloody mean!"  
"Isabela!" Hawke yelled from down in the hall. "Leave them alone!"  
"I'll find out eventually," she said turning away, "I can just get Eve drunk and she won't be able to resist telling me then!" She chuckled to herself as she walked out.

"We should have locked the damn door." Eve muttered. "And we should put a bell around Garrett's neck so we know he's coming."  
"Are you... upset they know about us?" Fenris asked. They had not spoken about telling the others. A part of him, that insecure, still disbelieving this was real, that could never forget he was a slave part of him, thought she'd want to keep it a secret. He wouldn't have blamed her if she did. He was just happy to be with her.  
Eve turned to look at him confused. "Why would I be?" She asked. "You don't think I'm proud to say I'm in love you? That I don't want people to know I'm yours?"  
"You are mine?" He asked, the words so strange on his tongue, to have someone that was his and his alone.  
She dropped the blankets that had covered her, crawled over and sat astride him.  
"I am yours." She leant down and kissed his lips gently, her hair a fragrant curtain around them. "I will always be yours, no matter what, and I don't care who knows."  
"Even though I'm an ex-slave, an elf and a lyrium branded killer?" He asked. He wasn't fool enough to think some people wouldn't look at a beautiful human women and be disgusted by the elven lover at her side.  
"No. I am yours even though I am a dead hero, a Grey Warden and a scarred warrior." She kissed him again, deeper this time, her hands brushing his ears.  
"And I am yours." He told her between kisses. He had been a slave, property, a thing to be used and abused as seen fit. He had belonged to Danarius. But not his heart. Not his soul. Now he gave them willingly to Eve because she gave hers willingly in return.  
She rolled her hips against him as they continued to kiss softly and deeply.  
"If you carry on with this there will be little left of the day." He whispered gruffly just when she moved her mouth to lavish one if his ears.  
"You had other plans did you, Fenris?" He groaned with desire as she said his name. "Tell me to stop and I will. But I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now than here." She breathed in to his ear, erasing any argument he had on his tongue. "Besides, there is still something I would like to finish." He felt her smile against his sensitive skin and then she slid down his body to continue where Hawke had interrupted.  
Fenris could not bring himself to disagree with such a skilled argument.

It was late afternoon when the two of them decided they needed some more sustenance than each other and left Fenris's mansion for Hawke's estate.  
They walked close together, side by side. Every so often Eve's fingers would brush lightly across his arm and set his skin aflame. It was taking all his willpower not to shove her up against a wall in a dark corner and ravish her. He couldn't get enough of her.  
As they reached the estate they ended up bumping in to the man himself, trailed by Varric and Aveline.  
"Managed to tear yourselves away from the bed then?" Varric winked at them.  
"For the time being." Eve replied with a smirk in Fenris's direction that held all kinds of promise. "Where are you all going?" She asked.  
"We were coming to find you actually, there's, err, a situation I thought you'd want to know about." Hawke said uneasily, rubbing a hand over his beard.  
"A situation?"  
"Yes. Maybe we should discuss it inside?" Hawke insisted, walking towards his estate, Eve on his heels.

"Tell me." She said as soon as the front door was closed behind them.  
"It's about your Wardens." Hawke told her. "Or rather, Nathanial Howe in particular." Fenris knew that name, he had previously been her lover back in  
Amaranthine.  
"What about him?" Eve asked puzzled.  
"His sister found me in Hightown not long ago. Apparently he was given orders from Weisshaupt to investigate the abandoned Thaig that we found before you came to Kirkwall. The one with the idol that sent Varric's brother mad."  
"And? That's hardly unusual, we go in to the Deep Roads all the time." She shrugged.  
"He was supposed to be back weeks ago. His sister thinks something has happened to him, but the other Wardens at Amaranthine won't investigate. Apparently the new Commander who has taken over in Nathanial's absence doesn't think it's anything to worry about. But his sister wants me to look for him, I said I would."  
"You won't!" Eve interrupted him angrily. "It's too dangerous!"  
"I'm not a stranger to the Deep Roads, Eve." Hawke replied.  
"I can go alone. I still have all my old maps, I can find it myself, see if Nathanial is down there or not."  
"I will go with you." Fenris told her. There was no chance he would let her go in to the Deep Roads by herself. He would not lose her now.  
She turned to him. "No. You can't. It's not safe for those who aren't Wardens."  
"Venhadis! I am not giving you a choice! I will follow you if I have to."  
"If anything happens to you..." She trailed off, looking away from him.  
"Then it does. But you won't be going alone." Especially when a man the abomination had mentioned was in love with her was involved. Fasta vass, how many of her past lovers was he going to he forced in to meeting?  
"That makes two of us." Hawke said.  
"Three. I hate those bloody tunnels but Bianca and I will be damned if you go on your own."  
"Rescuing fools from themselves. This is ridiculous." Aveline scoffed.  
"Fools?" Eve glared at her. "Nathanial is a good man. It was I who decided his fate as a Grey Warden, it wasn't his choice, but he is a dedicated one, an honourable one. If I can find him and whoever else may be down there alive, then I will. I may be dead to them but they were my Wardens, my responsibility." Fenris couldn't help but feel jealous about the way she spoke of this man, but he reminded himself how Eve had chosen him, and it help quench it, somewhat.  
"I'm sorry." Aveline told her with true regret. "But last time Hawke went down there we lost Carver. I don't want anyone else to die in that place."  
"We'll be fine, Aveline." Hawke told the Captain with a smile.  
"You said that last time, Hawke, don't jinx it." Varric warned.  
"I want to leave in the next two hours. Time is of the essence." Eve told them all.  
"I will come if you need me." Aveline said.  
"Thank you, but four of us are enough and you have other responsibilities." She reminded her.  
"Very well. Good luck, all of you. I'm counting on you Hawke to come back. This City needs you alive." She told the mage.  
"I've got no intentions of staying down there, Aveline, trust me. Besides, Isabela would never forgive me!" Hawke smiled.  
"We'll meet you both at the Hanged Man in an hour." Eve turned to Fenris and Varric. "Pack light."  
"Shouldn't we tell Blondie? He mentioned Howe in a few of his tall tales." Varric asked.  
"I think Nathanial may have enough to deal with seeing me, let alone Anders too. He thinks both of us are dead. Plus I think he may hate the Deep Roads even more than I do." She told the dwarf. "Though, if you do happen to see him, tell him. He'll want to know, they were friends. Of a kind."  
"Will do, Deadly. See you all soon." Varric waved as he strode off.

As Fenris moved to leave, Eve grabbed his arm and he tilted his head to look at her.  
"I don't want you to come." She told him softly.  
"It is not the first time I've been to the Deep Roads and you won't sway me to stay behind." He replied.  
"I know. That's why I'm not going to try and talk you out of it. But I do need to ask you something, because I know you'll do it."  
"Go on." He felt concern at her words, ominous as they were.  
"If it all goes to shit, if we get overwhelmed by darkspawn,"  
"I will not leave you behind." He growled at her, incensed she should think he would do that.  
"No. That's not what I'm asking. If we get overwhelmed, if you see them dragging me away, you must kill me." She stared in to his eyes and Fenris could see the fear there.  
"Tell me why." Why would she need him to do that? Why would the darkspawn drag her away?  
"Darkspawn do not kill the women. They use us to... breed from. They turn us in to these gargantuan monsters called broodmothers. I've seen many of them with my own eyes. I cannot become that. If... if you can, don't let them take me away. Kill me. Please." She near begged him.  
Fenris drew her in to an embrace, horrified at what Eve had told him. "They will not have you. They will never have you. That I promise." He told her in a low voice.  
"Thank you, Fenris." She pulled away and kissed him lightly. "Please don't tell the others, they won't understand."  
He nodded. She was right. Hawke would fight for her until it was too late, and he couldn't trust Varric to do what she needed to be done.  
"Go on, you need to pack. I will see you soon." She moved from his arms and made her way upstairs.

Fenris promised to himself the darkspawn would never drag her away to a horrific end as a broodmother. Not in the Deep Roads to find her Wardens from Fereldan or when she went to her Calling. They would never have her.


End file.
